


To Boldly Go

by BlackMajjicDuchess



Category: Naruto
Genre: Age Difference, Childhood, Children, Coffee, Comfort, Dancing, Dreams, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Lemon, Massage, Masturbation, Pregnancy, Responsibility, Romance, Romantic Friendship, Sexual Content, Toddlers, Unconventional Families, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-12 10:01:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 29,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1184910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackMajjicDuchess/pseuds/BlackMajjicDuchess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Asuma's dying words to Shikamaru made him promise that he would take care of the family he left behind. </p><p>Shikamaru took his promises very seriously. But he didn't plan on fitting in so well, and he didn't ask for the feelings... especially not towards her.</p><p>Kurenai has gotten so used to having him around, she can't imagine a life without him.</p><p>It's really only a matter of time before happily ever after just... happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Overdue

**Author's Note:**

> Previously posted on fanfiction.net under the same pen name February 2014. This is the "mature" story that got torn down by fanfiction.net and ultimately led to my presence on An Archive of Our Own. Enjoy :)

Kurenai stepped out of the hospital and into the night air. It was dark, and cold. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself, wishing she could just teleport back to her apartment. She was exhausted, inside and out. All day she had been poked and prodded and violated in ways she never could have imagined. Hospitals were supposed to be places of healing, but apparently childbirth was a sacred event that occurred between hospital staff and the parasite within her womb. She, as the mother, was nothing but a brood mare charged with gifting Konoha with another Shinobi.

“Can I get something for the pain?” she’d asked them fervently. “My back and feet have been aching something fierce.” The response she had received was a disapproving stare and a needle jab. She had no idea what had been in it, but whatever it was, it was not a painkiller. She felt like she’d been beaten bloody from head to toe. Even her hair hurt, if that was even possible. Why did being pregnant feel so similar to being body slammed by an Akimichi?

 _Asuma,_ she sighed inwardly, _you had to leave me at a time like this?_ Thinking of him brought tears to her eyes, as it always did. They had just begun to know each other. He would have taken care of her and protected her until the end of their days. “Get my wife pain meds, NOW,” he would have said, had they had the chance to marry as they had intended. That scrunch-faced nurse would have stared at him as if he had sprouted horns, but she’d have gotten the damned meds. Thinking of the possibilities made her smile, and just like that the tears were gone. That was the way of things; she’d forever be heartbroken that he was gone, but even in death, he would still be able to make her smile.

She hurriedly stepped down off the hospital’s entryway and crossed over to the gate. It was so dark, she could barely make out the stone monolith that signaled the beginning of the street. She shivered, cursing the weather. The day she had to go to the hospital for her prenatal check up, and it had to be this dark. And this cold. And, gah! The _pain!_

Something warm and gentle ghosted over her shoulders and settled around her arms. She emitted a soft gasp of surprise, but it died on her lips as the warmth seeped in from the garment draped across her shoulders. “Ahh,” she moaned, grateful.

“How did it go?” Shikamaru’s voice asked from the darkness, genuinely concerned.

She sighed again with relief. Bless Asuma’s students and their consideration. Ino regularly dropped by to say hello and spend some time with the very pregnant Kurenai, who otherwise was out of touch with the outside world. It hurt her feet to go out walking, and so she rarely left the house. Or did much of anything. Without her, Kurenai would have been dreadfully lonely. Choji also stopped by on occasion, bringing some confection or other that his mother had baked up—bless her heart!—satisfying every ridiculous craving she never knew she had, like honey-cayenne cookies or chocolate covered bacon. He’s stay for a while and talk to her, too, reassuring her that she’d be well cared for and that he and his teammates would always be a part of her family, all the while cleaning her house. She hadn’t the foggiest whose idea that was, but whoever it was deserved a medal. It ached to sit, ached to stand, and ached to lay down, but it was agony to attempt any household chores.

And Shikamaru… Shikamaru was a godsend. He knew instinctively where to be, what to say, and what to do. The how of it eluded her, a fact that would continue to baffle her, forever probably. She had not even told him that she had an appointment today, and yet here he was, waiting for her in the cold with a warm jacket--

He ran his fingers down her arm, seeking her hand without being able to see. At first, she was overcome with a sense of nerves, thinking what every woman thinks when a man caresses her arm, but then he pressed a minuscule round object into the palm of her hand. “Take that,” he murmured. “It will help with the pain.”

She could have kissed him! “Thank you,” she mumbled, dumbfounded. She didn’t waste any time, though. She hastily shoved the pill into her mouth and swallowed it. “It was awful,” she admitted. “I felt like a sow being selected for slaughter. Or like I was being studied. ‘If I jab at her with a bigger needle, how will she react this time?’ I only went in to complain about being overdue and needing something stronger for the aches, but it was like they didn’t even care.”

She wished she could see his face, to gauge his reaction, but his words were strong enough that she felt his anger. “That doesn’t seem right,” he muttered. “I should have gone with you. I’d have made sure they did their jobs with the level of professionalism that you deserve.”

“Thanks, Shikamaru,” she said sincerely, “but I don’t think it would have been appropriate.” She paused. “Like it or not, Asuma left me to deal with this on my own, and I’m a jonin kunoichi of the Leaf. I’m tough. I can handle a little rudeness and needle jabbing.”

She could feel his frown in her bones. “Like it or not, Asuma left me to deal with you. Kunoichi or not, tough or not, no you can’t. You’re sore, you’re heartsick, and you’re pregnant, which, from what I’m told, means you’re experiencing the entire spectrum of human emotion all at once in radically imbalanced proportions, and they should know that. It’s their job. They should be treating you gently and doing everything they can to make you comfortable until the baby gets here.”

Maybe it was the exhaustion. Maybe it was the pain pill he’d given her. Maybe his words legitimately moved her. But all of a sudden she was a gibbering mess of tears and feminine weakness, and if she’d have had any energy left, she’d have been ashamed to her very core for breaking down in front of the young man at her side. Like a gallant hero, he stopped their walk and pulled her in swiftly to his chest while she wept like an idiot for no reason at all. “I’m... s-sorry!” she cried. “I d-don’t know wh-wh-why I’m even crying right now!”

He smiled wryly. “I’m sure it has something to do with the massive amounts of energy you’re expending to try to make a whole person, and a ninja’s get, no less.” He stroked her hair and her shoulders, waiting for the racking sobs to die down. “I can’t even pretend to understand what you’re going through, Kurenai-sensei, but it’s going to be all right. That I _can_ promise.”

She almost collapsed with relief when they arrived at her home. The porch light was shining, which meant she could see again. She was dismayed to see that Shikamaru wasn’t wearing a coat, which meant he had given her his and must have been cold. Her despair must have shown on her face because it only took a moment for him to shake his head slightly and reassure her, “Don’t worry about me. My blood runs hotter than most. I’m not even cold.” She wasn’t convinced. “No, really,” he assured her. “Feel.” He reached for her hand and pressed her palm to his arm. He was right. Beneath the very thin sheen of cold skin, his body heat was utterly blazing. She released an audible sigh of relief, and he snickered.

He pushed the door open and ushered her inside. She kicked off her sandals and sank down immediately onto her couch, moaning with pleasure to be off her feet. “Oh, thank goodness!” she exclaimed, closing her eyes and letting the exhaustion sweep through her system. “It’s so wonderful to be home.”

She felt his presence moving throughout her house and, not for the first time, was grateful that he was there. After the day she’d had, she didn’t want to be alone. She’d spent all day at the hospital, and wasn’t supposed to. First she had to wait hours for someone to be available to see her, even though she’d made an appointment. Nothing was wrong, per se, but she was worried about being overdue and wanted to make sure everything was still okay. Somehow or another, the schedule had been mixed up. Her appointment had been moved to an earlier time and no one had told her, so she’d missed it. They assured her they could still see her, but she’d have to wait until the other appointments were finished, so she ended up having to wait until the hospital was closed down for a doctor to be available. Then she’d made the mistake of mentioning that she hadn’t felt a kick from her baby in a while, and the staff freaked out and ran a battery of tests. So, her 3 pm appointment that was only supposed to take an hour became a 6 pm appointment that took over three hours.

“Here,” his voice said softly into her ear.

She peeped an eye open and saw that he was holding a pillow. “I love you so much right now,” she professed, lifting her head. It ended up being far more difficult than she had bargained for, and when the pillow was in place, she dropped her head into it like a sack of stones.

He smiled at the compliment and put another pillow on the coffee table. He patted the cushion and bade her put her feet up, which she did gladly. He sat cross-legged on the other side of the table and cracked his knuckles, and she nearly died of mortification when she realized what he was up to. “Oh no, please, you really don’t have to—“ the protest died completely the moment his thumbs dug into the swollen, painful meat of her foot. “Oh. That feels divine.” She rolled her eyes in ecstasy and sank deeper into the couch.

“Don’t worry about it, Kurenai-sensei,” he told her. “My mom used to make me do this for her all the time, and it’s really not a bother. Let me know if I can get you anything else, okay?”

Drooling with pleasure, she didn’t answer. The ache in her back had dulled to nothing more than slight discomfort, and the magic he was working on her feet made up for all the rest. When she spoke again, her words were slurred. “Every woman should have one of you when they’re pregnant,” she declared.

“You give me too much credit. If Asuma were here, I’m sure you’d be even better looked after. Besides, from what Mom tells me, I’m a pain in the ass anyway. I think the drugs are going to your head.” He chuckled at his own joke.

She didn’t. She’d meant every word. True, Asuma had loved her, and he’d have done his best. He’d ask every five minutes if she needed something, and lovestruck fool that she was, she’d assure him that she was fine. She’d never ask him to do anything for her, because in her mind he had always done enough. No, what Shikamaru had been doing was instinctive. He never had to ask what she needed. Somehow, he just _knew_. And even if she denied she needed anything, he never accepted that. He could read her expression as if she were an open book with big letters, and paid attention to the tiniest details so that he could gauge exactly how she was feeling at any given moment.

He hadn’t left her house in three weeks, not since her due date had approached and then slowly drifted away. For the past two weeks he’d gotten hardly any sleep at all, certain that every day was the day and not wanting to be a moment late on the cue. She’d halfheartedly tell him he should go home, that she’d be fine, but she didn’t have the strength to argue with him, and he was very stubbornly staying put. She’d never admit how much she appreciated him being there. The truth of the matter was that she was terrified of going into labor with no one around to help her get to the hospital—or worse, deliver at home.

* * *

She awoke in pain. She had expected it to be worse than it was, but it was definitely not to be ignored. She hissed through her teeth and tried to sit up, her eyes squeezed tightly shut.

“Kurenai-sensei, are you alright?” It was Ino, rushing to her side, dropping a fresh bouquet of flowers to replace the ones she’d brough last week.  
She groaned and barely managed to speak. “No,” she admitted.

“You’re going into labor,” Ino told her. “Shikamaru!” she barked at the still-sleeping Shinobi. His eyes flew open as if he hadn’t been sleeping after all, then widened as he realized what was going on. “It’s happening!” she chirped with delight, as if he couldn’t already see. “Help me get her up.”

“No!” shrieked Kurenai, not ready to move. Both Shinobi froze, Ino’s eyes tight with concern, and Shikamaru comically poised half out of his chair. They exchanged glances, unsure how to proceed. The contraction passed, and she nodded wordlessly. They stood to either side of her and helped her up.

Like it or not, the baby was coming.

As they crossed the threshold into the hospital lobby, she was overwhelmed with a sense of dread. After her last hospital visit, she didn't want to be here. She gripped Shikamaru's arm and looked at him, panic in her eyes. "You're not going to leave me all alone in there, are you?" she asked breathlessly.

He frowned and hesitated. The delivery room was no place for any man who was not a doctor or the baby's father. He didn't believe his presence would be appropriate. And yet... the fear stricken in her eyes gripped at his heart like a vice. He rubbed her arm consolingly and gave her a little pat and forced himself to smile. "Of course not," he told her calmly. "I'll be right there with you the whole time."


	2. Triangle

Shikamaru stared down at his glass, idly caressing the lip with a fingertip. _Annoying,_ he thought, _how I seem to pick up everyone's bad habits._ When Asuma died, he'd had the brilliant idea of sticking that cigarette in his mouth. Then, when his father was claimed by the war, suddenly Shikamaru had the urge to make recreational drinking a hobby. _Man, I'm so lame._

There was the screech of a shifting bar stool and a heavy thud, and then Ino and Choji were there. "Hey buddy!" Choji greeted cheerfully, just as Ino clapped a hand on his shoulder and said, "What's up, Shikamaru?"

He greeted them with a warm smile, genuinely happy to see them as usual. "Nothing, just paying homage to the old man." He tapped the glass.

The bartender dropped off The Usual for Choji and Ino, a dark beer and a sake, straight up. They settled in on either side of him, and then Ino adopted her up-to-something face and smiled at him. "Shikamaru, I need to ask you something," she started.

He barely stifled a groan. Oh no, not this again. She'd been hounding him for details on a potential 'Mrs. Shikamaru' ever since their fathers died. "Ino…" he began, frantically trying to think of how to fend her off this time.

"What?" she snapped, irritated that he already knew where she was going. "You're seriously starting to creep me out. Do you just not like girls? Or do you like guys or something, is that it?" Shikamaru would never understand a world that revolved around relationships, or why Ino felt that they were so important.

He sighed heavily and fixed her with a flat stare. "Have you met my mother?" It was mostly a joke, but the point was well made. Shikamaru's mother had existed to harass his father. In fact, she was the inspiration behind his later drinking problem.

Ino's posture was the very picture of feminine stubbornness. She set her lips in a firm line, not to be swayed. "Do you even realize that with your dad gone, you're the last in the line of the Nara clan, and if the three of us don't start popping out babies, there won't be another Ino-Shika-Cho? Do you even care?"

"Yeah, I do, but you're not harping on Choji to reproduce." He took a sip of his whiskey mildly.

She growled with impatience. "That's different and you know it!"

Choji wisely said nothing.

"Oh yeah? Why?" he challenged.

"Because…!" She didn't finish the sentence. They all knew what she wanted to say, but she knew better than to say it.

 _Because no one likes Choji like that... he's fat_.

The unspoken sentence settled over them like a dark cloud, and for a long time, none of them spoke. The silence was profoundly uncomfortable. Finally, because he liked riling Ino up and knowing something she didn't, he said very quietly, "Choji's closer to popping out brats than you are, Ino."

He smiled into his whiskey as Choji turned several pretty shades of red and Ino shrieked, "WHAT?!" Shikamaru nearly burst out laughing, but it was much more satisfying to sit still as if it was obviously common knowledge. He felt like a professional when he batted his eyelashes and asked innocently, "You mean, you didn't know?"

What Ino didn't know was that Choji had a girlfriend. Had had a girlfriend for a pretty long time now. Choji hadn't said anything because he knew what would happen. Ino would tease him and beg him for details, and then probably hound him on all the things his girlfriend already hounded him on, namely his weight. Moegi wasn't all that bad, though. She only told him that it would be better for his lifelong health if he attempted to eat better foods, then proceeded to learn how to cook his favorite foods in healthier ways. The way to his best friend's heart was definitely through his stomach. Choji was hopelessly addicted and Moegi ruled his world.

In fact, Moegi had grown into a real stunner, and neither him nor Choji had known who she was when she sat with them at lunch that day, shyly wiggling her way into Choji's life. Rumor had it that she somehow or another owed her life to one of his more heroic moments during the war, and had wanted to get to know him ever since. They hit it off immediately and were even talking of marriage. Shikamaru had never seen Choji so happy.

And right now, Ino's reaction was totally worth it. He hunched over his whiskey to let the fur fly and chuckled into his glass.

Ino was unleashing a tirade of insult: "...can't believe you never even told me! How was I supposed to find out? Was I supposed to wait until someone plastered it onto Sakura's massive billboard forehead, or for Naruto to blurt it out over a mouthful of ramen? We've been friends our whole lives, and you never thought to tell me you had a girlfriend? What's up with that?"

Throughout the whole debacle, Choji didn't say a word. But, once Ino was finished laying into him, he turned and fixed her with the angriest stare Shikamaru had ever seen on his face. Shikamaru stopped moving like a deer in headlights. He didn't even breathe. Choji inhaled slowly. Exhaled. Shut his eyes briefly, and began speaking. "For as long as we've been friends, Ino, how many times have you hinted and outright said how no one will ever look twice at me unless I lose some weight?" Her mouth fell open slightly at the quiet yet menacing accusation. "You've poked and teased me my whole life, and I took it because somewhere in my heart I thought I loved you. You, with your perfect hair, your perfect smile… but you know what? I was wrong. I've found somebody that actually makes me happy, even though I'm FAT"—he emphasized the word that no one dared ever say in his hearing, and his voice dropped to a dangerous whisper—"and you have the nerve to ask why I didn't tell you?"

Ino's chest heaved rapidly as she searched for the words to say. "Choji, I—"

"NOT ANYMORE, INO!" Choji roared, causing every head in the bar to turn their way. Shikamaru didn't even twitch; he hadn't expected the tiff to escalate so quickly. "When have you ever found a man who made you happy, hm?" Another unspoken question hung heavily between them: _does Sasuke make you happy?_ It was a cruel thing to bring up; they all knew the answer to that. He and Choji had held her hair back when she'd vomited up the alcohol she'd drunk to forget how much she hated herself when she was with him, had held her while she cried, and had plotted his murder in secret to avenge the bruises.

Choji seemed to realize he'd overstepped. His eyes widened, and then his shoulders slumped with defeat as he pushed his stool back and stood. He downed the rest of his beer, slamming the glass back onto the counter so hard it was a wonder that it hadn't shattered in his hand. Then he crossed the space between them, kissed her fiercely, and told her as earnestly as he could, "I would have made you _happy_ , Ino," before he stalked right out of the bar.

Ino was speechless. Shikamaru, floored by the confession and finally certain he was not about to be crushed for his infraction, reached an arm out automatically and caught her slim shoulders. She was already shaking with sobs. "Sorry, Ino. That got out of hand."

She jerked away, shaking off his offer of comfort. Then, leaving her drink completely untouched, she hurried out the door.

Shikamaru sighed and addressed the empty seats to either side of him. "Hey, guys, don't worry about it. I'd love to pick up the tab!" He finished his whiskey in one swallow, slapped some bills on the bar, and followed her out.

She hadn't gotten very far. Just outside the door in fact. She had her face buried in her knees, shoulders quaking. He stood over her, hands in pockets. "You want to water the grass out here, or should we go someplace a little more private?"

She lifted her head and looked at him, her blue eyes watery with tears. "Shikamaru…" she breathed, barely able to speak.

"My place it is," he decided, offering his arm. She reached up and grasped it, and he hauled her up. He wrapped one arm around her shoulder as they walked, protecting her from anyone who might think to comment on her emotional state.

They reached Shikamaru's house in good time, saying nothing during the journey. Ino seemed troubled, and was likely stewing over her confrontation with Choji. Shikamaru mostly enjoyed the scenery, occasionally working on how to discuss Choji's behavior with Ino. They brushed past Shikamaru's mother and went straight to his room. Bringing Ino home, as he often did, served another purpose: it shut his mother up about her concerns that he might be latently homosexual. Lately it was all she talked about. She gave him crap about his hair being too girly or his hobbies not being manly enough and the fact that he'd not really dated much-or at all-only confirmed her suspicions. So, on the rare occasion when he would bring Ino home, he took the opportunity to shut his bedroom door between his mother and them and let her imagination run wild.

What was up with all the concerns about his love life recently anyway?

Ino seated herself on the edge of his bed, shoulders slumped, staring at her hands. "Am I really as rotten as he said?" she asked him tremulously.

"Don't be ridiculous," he answered readily. She chewed on her lip and looked away. He sighed. "You know he's had a thing for you since before we were even on a team, don't you?"

"No," she said on an exhalation, wrapping her arms around herself. "Why didn't he say anything?"

"Not to be mean, Ino, but think about it. The first conversation we ever had about dating in any way, shape, or form, you flat out told him that girls wouldn't like him unless he went on a diet and lost some weight. Why do you think he's so touchy about the F word? From then on, he knew that unless he did something, he had no chance at all with you, and food is the only life he knows. It'd be easier to give up breathing."

She nodded in true understanding. Shikamaru was impressed that she was actually listening, considering his words, and not freaking out. "And now? With Moegi?"

"If you tell him that I told you this, we won't be able to be friends anymore."

"Okay," she replied meekly.

"No, I mean it. The three of us, all of us… we simply won't be able to be friends. Choji won't be able to speak to you, he'll blame me, and I'll be angry with you."

She swallowed, and repeated, "Okay."

He took a deep breath. "Before the war, Choji did try to go on a diet. He drove himself crazy trying to eat right. He cut out chips and barbecue completely. I'm shocked he didn't die of sadness at having done it. He was starting to make a little progress, but…" She was staring at him, intent, drinking in every word. "Then our dads died, and his didn't. We got back from that mess and he fell off his wagon. His dad threw a party, there was a barbecue, and he had such a great time with his family that he swore he'd never go on a diet again. It was a big step for him." He took a breath. Waited to see if she'd get it. Maybe she did, but she gave no indication. "He knew when he did it that that was it. He'd undone all of his agonizing progress, and in doing so he'd thrown out his best chance at getting your attention. So he gave up on you, knowing there was no chance in hell that you'd give him a second glance."

Neither of them said anything for a long while. He felt bad for her. Most of the time she was belligerent, bossy, and a general pain in the ass, but deep down, Ino had a big heart, strong talent, and protective instincts. She was a good friend. He just wished she possessed a little more patience, tolerance, and insight, to see people like Sasuke and Choji for who they really were.

The silence stretched. Shikamaru waited to see where her thoughts ended up. Ino occasionally wiped the tears from her eyes. She was no longer sobbing, but her eyes still were not done leaking.

"I'm breaking up with Sasuke," she finally declared.

Maybe there was hope for her after all.

"I… I don't think I would have dated Choji anyway," she began, "even if he weren't… you know."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I love you guys. Both of you guys. But I need you where you are in my life. He's happy, and that's good. I've known that Sasuke wasn't it. I think deep down I've known forever that he wasn't going to be right for me. But Choji isn't, either. I'm not a homemaker. I don't want to be good at cooking, and I think that's basically a requirement."

They both laughed at that. That was good.

"I'm glad he never got skinny on his diet. I think it would have hurt more." Grudgingly, Shikamaru agreed. "I do wish he'd have said something sooner, but I can admit when I've been… difficult."

"That's putting it mildly," Shikamaru interjected wryly.

She glared at him. At least the Ino he knew and loved was back. "I should have been nicer about it. I'm going to apologize."

Shikamaru grinned. "An apology _and_ you're breaking up with Sasuke? It must be my lucky day!" She elbowed him, but she was smiling. He took the elbow and smiled back. "Good things come in threes, you know. Next thing you're going to tell me is that you want me to go out with you." He meant it as a joke.

But the smile fled immediately, and her cheeks colored.

"Oh no," he groaned. That explained everything.

Her baleful, apologetic look told him everything he needed to know. "I'm sorry, Shikamaru. I should have said something sooner."


	3. Unconditionally

"You're  _what_?" he asked incredulously, all traces of his usual calmness gone. Surely he'd misheard?

"I'm going on a mission," she confirmed. She didn't sound too happy about it, either. She was rushing to pack the few things she'd need to take with her: compass, photographs of her daughter, a quick snack for the road… "And I need you to watch Chisuzu." She wasn't asking.

That was fine with him, but that wasn't the point.

As if on cue, the little girl started crying from the other room. Kurenai shot him a glare for raising his voice, certain that it had woken her up. Then she made to go toward the source of the sound to calm her back down. "No," he stopped her, "I'll get it." She didn't listen, and neither did he. Together they arrived at the toddler's room. She was standing in her crib, face red and damp from crying. They both reached for her, but Shikamaru was faster and scooped her up from the crib. Immediately the screeches and sobs turned into sniffles and sharp inhalations of breath like a skipping record. "Come on, Monster," he cooed at her. "It's alright."

Kurenai couldn't decide if she was relieved he had taken care of the problem or annoyed that he'd undermined her motherly duties. She decided to let the matter lie and turned back to the issue at hand. "Chisuzu isn't a baby anymore, and I'm still a Shinobi," she lectured. "Just because a ninja has a child, it's no reason to be forced off duty." She kept her eyes off of him. She liked it less than he did, and she knew that if she agreed with his protestations, she'd march right back to the Hokage's tower and give Tsunade a piece of her mind, and that would be disastrous, to say the least. The woman had a  _legendary_  temper.

"Are you quoting the Hokage?" he accused. Her gaze snapped up from what she was doing. His brows were furrowed, and the expression on his face was challenging. She noted with alarm that she had, in fact, been quoting the Hokage.

" _Not that I wish to shirk my duties, Lady Hokage, but I have a baby and no husband. Who's going to look after her?"_

" _Just because a ninja has a child, it's no reason to be forced off duty. Find a babysitter. Or find a husband. You're going. You'll probably thank me for it later. You're an only parent, and you need to get out of here for a while."_

She chose not to answer his question. "I have to go, Shikamaru, I'm sorry!" She tossed the last item into her rucksack with a little more force than intended, a thin novel to pass the quiet nights alone. She gripped the counter behind her with both hands and stared him down, willing him to argue more. She didn't have time for this, but worse, if he kept arguing, she'd eventually agree with him, and there was sure to be trouble.

"You're not just a Shinobi, Kurenai-sensei, you're a mother. Your child needs you. It's not the same with fathers, and you know it."

Kurenai's eyes traveled to the scrunched up face of her daughter. Asuma's daughter. She had a fistful of Shikamaru's shirt in her mouth and she was watching her mother. It was enough to make her heart ache. Chisuzu was a baby; she wouldn't understand why her mother was gone. She swallowed her agreement and said instead, "I'm a Shinobi. Man or woman, it doesn't make any difference. I have to go." She grabbed the pack and made it to the door in a few quick steps.  _A Shinobi must not show emotion_.

"Kurenai!" his sharp voice stopped her. She turned, thinking he meant to continue. He looked down at the child in his arms, then back at her. His voice sounded small. "I'm not her father. I don't know how to do this."

 _Poor kid_ , she thought. All this time he'd been taking care of her because of some misbegotten promise he'd made to his mentor. She doubted he had had any idea of what he was signing up for, and angel that he was, he meant to keep his word. He'd been cast in the role of proxy husband and father all at once without meaning to because somehow or another, she always needed him to be there for her. She felt guilty for leaving him here with Chisuzu, but there wasn't anyone else. No one could get her to go to sleep if her mother wasn't there... but he could. She fixed him with an apologetic stare. "She doesn't know that, Shikamaru. Please, I'm counting on you." She fluttered her eyelashes and widened her eyes. It was an evil thing to do; Asuma could never withstand her 'please face.'

His shoulders slumped, defeated. "Alright, alright. I'll do it." She sighed with relief and turned to go again. "Be careful, Kurenai," he called after her.

The door shut between her and her makeshift family. It was only then that she realized that he'd said her name.  _Just_  her name. And for some reason she couldn't quite put her finger on, that bothered her greatly.

He heaved a great sigh and sank into the couch, the toddler still pressed against his hip. "Well, Monster, I guess it's just you and me for a while. She hiccupped and looked at him, brown eyes waiting. Asuma's eyes. He tipped his head back on the couch and looked up at the ceiling. "Damn you, Asuma-sensei. How'd I get roped into playing dad?" Chisuzu giggled then and grabbed at his ears. "Stop that!" he exclaimed.

 _What a pain,_ he thought. But as long as he was just slightly irritated, it would distract him from how terrified he was. This was the first time Kurenai had gone away for more than an hour or two at a time, and he didn't know the first thing about actual childcare. What if he accidentally killed her? What if Chisuzu got sick? What did she actually want when she was crying? "Oh man," he groaned. "This is going to suck."

But then, when he looked back down at the heavy, smelly weight in his arms, her head was drooping, and almost as instantly as she started crying, she was asleep. A smile bloomed on his face, and he reached up with one hand to brush one of the messy black locks out of her faces. She was beautiful, just like her mother. He felt a momentary pang of regret that Asuma would never know her, and wondered idly if she'd grow up to be as powerful a Shinobi as his parents.  _Of course she will_ , he told himself.  _I'm going to be her sensei._

When he was younger, he never cared to do anything with his life. He went to the academy and tried his hardest, but mostly just because he wanted to be able to do whatever he wanted, and only the Hokage told a jonin what to do and when to do it. But then again… so much had changed since then. So many had died, and for what? So he could laze around and do nothing with the power and education he'd been given? Not him. Asuma, Shikaku, Inoichi, Neji… every one of them a stab in the heart.

" _The kings are the unborn children who will grow up to take care of the leaf. One is still in Kurenai's womb… hers and my child. Take care of my king!"_  Those had been Asuma's last words to him, and he intended to honor his mentor with every ounce of his being. Something had changed in him that day. He was no longer the lazy genius whose only ambition was to be left alone. It was time to grow up. Time to accept his responsibility as a Shinobi and guard the Kings of the Leaf. That day had hardened his resolve into the steely grace of a ninja. How silly his life had seemed, now, up until that point.

His gaze fell upon the now sleeping King of Konoha, Chisuzu Sarutobi. Kurenai's daughter. Asuma's daughter. His protégé. His lips curled upward in a slow smirk, wondering if she'd ever grow to understand the expectations that were already laid upon her young life. "Someday, little Monster, you're going to be as strong as your mom and dad. You will be magnificent, and I will help you any way that I can." His reward was an errant pool of drool that was pushed out of her mouth by her roaming infant tongue. What was she dreaming about? Food?

"Alright, that's enough of that!" he decided, lifting her up. She stirred only slightly, probably exhausted from crying. He carefully returned her to her crib, making sure to lay her on her back. He tucked a tiny, soft teddy bear into the crook of her arm, and instinctively, she curled her arm around it and hugged it tight. He turned to leave the room and shut off the light. Then, remembering how he had been scared of the dark as a child, he left the door open and the hall light on. "Better," he murmured to himself. From the murky darkness within, he heard a gentle, contented sigh. It seared straight to the secret place in his heart that he had had reserved for her ever since he'd witnessed her birth and held her bloody and squalling in his arms. His heartbeat sped up and he had to stop for a moment to think about what it all might mean.

He loved her. It was as simple as that. Through no fault of his own and without his permission, his heart saw her as his daughter, too. The logistics of it were impossible, but there it was. It was a secret he had known since the day she was born. No, before that, even. Since the day he had promised Asuma that he would assume responsibility for his sensei's child. He'd never tell a soul that that was how he felt, surely not Kurenai. There would come a day when Kurenai found someone new to care for her, and then Chisuzu would have a real father to care for her, and Shikamaru would cease to be anything but her sensei and friend.

His jaw clenched so violently at the thought that it ached. He didn't like the idea of that, not one bit. He wasn't going to let just anyone take his place. How would he know how Kurenai liked her tea, or how to get Chisuzu to fall asleep? He found himself hoping Kurenai never found anyone, to save him the trouble of interrogating and or murdering the guy. But that wasn't quite right either… she deserved to have the family she'd always wanted.

He stopped what he was doing. What was he doing? He looked down at his hands and saw one of Kurenai's blouses kung fu gripped in his hands. He blinked and glanced around, then realized he was folding the pile of clothes she had dumped on the couch. He shrugged and continued, folding the rest of the three baskets of clothes that someone had laundered but not folded. Then, satisfied with his work, he moved on to the matter of the piles of dishes in the sink.

Before too long, Chisuzu was screaming from her room again. He put down the pan in his hands, wiped his hands on his pants, and went to her. She was much the same as before, hands gripping the edge of her crib, wailing and wailing. "Now, now, Monster," he purred at her. "We're alright, see?" He hefted her into his arms and rocked her in the air. She was not to be subdued this time. "You want mommy, don't you?" Her answer was to cry even harder. "I know. I'm sorry. She'll be back though. It's just you and me for now, so try to like me, okay?" She didn't stop crying. He whipped out the pacifier he kept in his pocket for moments like these. She wasn't having it. He shoved it back in his pocket. "You're not tired… you just woke up. Don't want a pacifier, so you're probably not hungry either." He lifted her higher with one arm and used the other to thump the diaper. "Bingo."

"You're lucky you're so cute," he told the shrieking baby as he changed the diaper. "There's no way I'd clean up another human being's waste otherwise. Nasty. There," he said as he finished and stood her back up. She giggled and reached out with both arms:  _pick me up._ "You want up?" She jumped up and down, and he obliged, extracting the pacifier again. This time, it went it. "You're not so bad," he told her. "I've figured out tougher problems before." She gurgled happily and laid her head on his shoulder.

He sighed with relief. Perhaps this baby thing wasn't going to be so hard after all.

That afternoon, as he was cooking himself up some noodles and teriyaki, he heard a low rumble. It started out soft, but gained volume. Thunder. There was a squeal from the living room where he'd left Chisuzu napping under his watchful eye. She was sitting up and staring at him, her lip quivering and threatening tears. He smiled at her. "It's just thunder, little Monster." She said something in baby speak, what she was sure was words but came out as a string of inarticulate sounds. She didn't sound as sure as he seemed. "Here, I'll show you." He went to the front door and opened it, left it hanging ajar, and returned to cooking his food. He didn't want the noodles to boil over.

As he stirred, he tried to explain it to her. She watched him with concern, not sure if she should be scared by what was happening outside. "It's going to rain today. Sometimes, when it rains, there's some sound—thunder—and some light—lightning." There was a flash outside, and Chisuzu's attention snapped quickly from watching Shikamaru cook to trying to figure out what it was. "That was lightning. Did you see it? Now, in a few moments, there will be the sound again. Lightning causes thunder. Listen…" About ten seconds later, the thunder rolled again.

Chisuzu stilled, watching and listening. She remained observant through several bouts of lightning and thunder. Every now and again she looked back to Shikamaru, so he was careful to keep smiling, lest she think the storm was something to be feared. He glanced up occasionally and saw that she was smiling, too, even as she figured out what a storm was. "Smart baby," he complimented her. "You sure you're not mine?" He smirked at the joke.

Then, a quiet rush as the rain swept over the house, and before long the eaves of the roof were weeping onto the walkway outside. "Ah!" cried the baby. Shikamaru looked up and saw that she was pointing. "Yes, rain," he told her. "It's water falling from the sky. "Ah!" she cried again, pointing more insistently. Sighing, he removed the noodles from the heat. They were just about done anyway. He moved closer to her, and as he approached she swung her body around on the couch and put her feet upon the carpet. As soon as she was able, she ran with a toddler's drunken grace to the door and out. Shikamaru thought about stopping her, but he knew from the thunder that the danger of the lightning was still miles away.

He watched with mute fascination as she was acquainted with rain for the first time. She went out hesitantly at first, waving her tiny little hands wildly in the air. The moment her meaty little fingers connected with the water streaming off the roof, she squealed with delight. She took her hands back, then thrust them back into the water and squealed again. She turned to look over her shoulder at him, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed, said "Ah!" again and pointed. She didn't wait for his reassurance this time; she stepped out into the stream of water and was instantly drenched. She laughed and laughed and stamped her feet, hands up over her head like she could even stem the flow of the water upon her head. She shrieked with pleasure. She spent the next ten minutes running in and out of the house into the waterfall of rain, giggling and showing him what she found.

 _Heavens help me,_ he thought,  _and let there murder upon the man that tries to take my little girl._


	4. Best Date Ever

"Alright, Ino. Let's go out." She had been hinting at it--less than subtly--ever since she had confessed her feelings for him.

"Excuse me?" she asked him incredulously, playing at being offended. "That's not how you ask  _me_  out."

He smirked at her, calling her bluff. "Fine, then let's not."

"I don't think so!" she countered, arms folding beneath her breasts. "You said let's go out, so let's go." She wasn't going to take no for an answer, not once he had agreed.

He chuckled inwardly. They'd been friends their whole lives. He knew exactly which cards to play to nudge her in the direction he wanted. "Yeah, that's what I said."

She smiled so brilliantly that he thought for a second that maybe he did have feelings for her. At least spending time with her would make her happy, for a little while. He was tired of seeing her so bummed out all the time. Despite Sasuke being a royal douche canoe, she had still liked him, and breaking up had been hard on her. He fervently wished, as her friend, that she valued her happiness over the need to have a relationship with a man.

She looked down at her feet, keeping her happy smile to herself, heart aflutter. Then, abruptly, she frowned. Something didn't add up. "But Shikamaru… why the change of heart?"

He decided honesty was the best policy, or at least part of the truth. "I've been thinking about what you've said, and about what my mother thinks. I haven't really put myself out there. I guess the only legitimate reason for that is that I've been so busy. So, yeah, I probably should go on a date. And you wanted to go on one with me, so it just kind of works out. I'm not suddenly in love with you, if that's what you're worried about, but I'm willing to give this a chance." He gave her his best grin and latched onto her hand.

Her breath escaped her in a rush. "O-oh, okay." Her grip tightened around his. "Thank you." She vowed not to let him regret it. "Where would you like to go?" Her blue eyes searched his, trying to read his thoughts. Did he have _any_ feelings at all for her? If he did, then this might just be the best day of her life!

He leaned into her and nudged her shoulder with his, one side of his mouth curving into his characteristic smirk. "Wherever my lady desires," he slurred in a low voice.

She blushed at the chivalry, suddenly shy. Was this what love was really like? Shyness and marching heartbeats, the thrill of just holding someone's hand? She reflected on all of her previous relationships, and was dismayed to discover she'd been doing it all wrong. She'd aggressively pursued Sasuke, and had felt the thrill of victory when he'd finally agreed to go out with her, but nothing had ever felt like this. She looked at their hands, entwined and aloft between them. Shikamaru was whistling and swinging their hands as they walked, and her breath left her. How was it possible to feel so much over so little contact? She glanced up at his face. He was smiling, just a little. She felt another stupidly bright smile alight on hers and marveled at how easy it was. Even if he never loved her, she was grateful that he was giving her the chance, and knowing Shikamaru, he was doing it just because he knew it'd make her happy for even one day. That in itself was the gesture of a beautiful soul. "There's that little café on the edge of the Village," she offered helpfully, trying not to make it so romantic that Shikamaru might freak out and end the date early. They'd gone to that café many times just as friends, so it was safe territory.

Shikamaru was already shaking his head. "We go there all the time. That's not special." She felt her blood heat at the realization that he was actually  _trying_. Did that mean...? "You're just trying to go easy on me, aren't you?" He narrowed one eye at her, accusatory but playful.

"No!" she lied, then blew out a breath of air. "Fine, I'll think of something else." She racked her brain, but came up short. All that she could think of was her dream date, the one she'd never told anyone about. She and Sakura had spoken of dream dates before, but she'd lied then, too, saying she wanted nothing more than a nice dinner with some drinks and a night in. It was a safe, if untrue, response. The truth was a little more daring. "We could… get takeout at one of the street vendors and spend the afternoon in this quiet place that I know?"

His smile was so sincere that it made her heart ache. "That's more like it! Lead the way, Ino."

Nervously, she led him to her favorite spot in the entire world, takeout bags in hand. It was a secluded, secret meadow in the middle of a thick copse of trees. It was perfectly exposed to the sunlight, so it was protected from the harsher elements, privy to the shining sun, and perfectly situated to receive the rain. Their timing couldn't have been more perfect. After the rain spells that had swept through Konoha, the meadow was in full bloom… which is what had made this her favorite spot in the first place. There was an absolute abundance of wildflowers in every color. She'd never brought anyone here, not even Sasuke. Sasuke had always derided the simple beauty of flowers. They were 'weak and had no purpose,' after all. But for her, flowers represented peace, and _solace,_ a reminder that sometimes a thing's only purpose was to exist and bring joy to others, and that not everything had to be useful to be appreciated. Flowers were the earth's most perfect art form, flawless even with imperfections.

"This is great," Shikamaru gushed at her, admiring the view. "Excellent choice." He inhaled the sweet smell of flowers and was instantly soothed.

"Thank you," she said sheepishly, handing him his takeout bag.

He accepted it graciously and plopped down on the ground. She gracefully lowered herself to the grass next to him an appropriate distance away. She didn't want to get too close too fast. For a while, they ate quietly, neither entirely certain how to proceed. Finally, he asked, "So how did it go with Sasuke?"

Her heart dropped to her stomach. "Depressingly easy," she scoffed. "I worked on what to say for days, and then when I told him I didn't want to see him anymore, he just said, 'alright' and walked away like I was nothing." The pain of realizing just how little she had meant to him was a bitter lesson in love, and one she'd never forget.

"I'm sorry," he told her, meaning it. "He always was a selfish brat, though. You deserve better."

She shrugged her shoulders, trying to pretend it wasn't a big deal. It didn't work. She was beginning to wonder if she even deserved love. The idea of a happy relationship was one that constantly eluded her. Without hesitating, Shikamaru reached out and rubbed her shoulder consolingly. Lest she start crying just from the empathy, she changed the subject. "The conversation with Choji went a lot better."

"Yeah?" He stopped paying attention to his food and tuned in. "How did that go?"

"He thanked me for apologizing and assured me he was over it. We spent most of the conversation talking about Moegi." Ino had been amazed at how quickly Choji had cooled down. It was the bannermark of a nice person that he had forgiven her so fast And truly, Moegi sounded like a sweet girl. She must have really grown up. Ino looked at Shikamaru, wanting him to see the sincerity in her face, so that he could know she wasn't just saying something to quell the conflict. "Shikamaru, he's so…  _happy_. I'm glad." She realized that she hadn't always been kind to him, but he was still one of her best friends.

Shikamaru nodded, agreeing with her. "Yeah, he really is." He chuckled. "Are you jealous?"

She thought about it.  _Really_  thought about it. "No, jealous isn't the word. I covet what he has, but I'm not… jealous, necessarily. Choji was right. I've gotten exactly what I deserved. I was unkind, and I ended up with Sasuke. I'm glad Choji showed me exactly who I was. It's going to be different now, you'll see. It's time for me to grow up, too. Like Choji has. Like you have."

 _Yep_ , thought Shikamaru,  _there's hope for Ino yet._ "I haven't grown up all that much," he offered modestly, rubbing his neck.

She raised an eyebrow. "You really haven't noticed?"

He shook his head. He had told himself that he _would_ grow up, had been meaning to do so for a long time, but he wasn't succeeding. He still lived with his mom, and still had not contributed anything meaningful to the village and its citizens. Asuma and his father would be ashamed, he was certain of it. Or at least disappointed.

She barked a humorless laugh. "You're the most grown up out of all of us, including Neji!" Now it was his turn to be skeptical. Neji was always so... composed. "Wow, some genius you are," she mocked. "Allow me to educate you then." She kept count on her fingers. One. "You cared for Kurenai-sensei when she was pregnant, which not even most men twice your age know how to do, let alone have the stones to do it." The second finger bloomed. "You're practically a father; you're singlehandedly taking care of a two year old, a prospect that would scare anyone else your age nigh unto death." Three. "You're taking care of a household." Four. "You have the deepest insight of anyone I know. You know when Kurenai-sensei needs your help, and you can tell when your friends are upset. You always know how to help." And five. "You have the most amazing intellect of anyone. You know you can't argue with me there."

He wanted to. He was tired of his brain being the only reason people knew him or liked him. He was glad of it, oh yes, and would trade his intelligence for nothing. But still, this was the reason he had arranged for Choji to babysit and finally taken up Ino on her offer of a date. He needed a distraction, something real to hang onto. His time was taken up by a needy baby, the needs of a lonely widow, and his work. Not that he wasn't satisfied with his life, but he needed something to make him feel alive, and perhaps love was that thing he needed. Even if he and Ino fizzled into nothing, at least he'd have a little more experience in the matter by the end of it. "What's your point, Ino?"

She smiled that knowing Ino smile. It was the one she flashed when she knew she was privy to information you wanted. "Nothing. Just that, for someone who hates troublesome chores, you sure seem to be enjoying the most troublesome chores of all."

"Meaning?" He knew what she meant.

She chuckled, a throaty sound, rife with conspiracy. "You were totally cut out to be a family man. That's what's been pulling me towards you," she admitted on a sigh.

His interest piqued. "Really?" No one had ever said anything like that to him before. Now that he wanted her to talk, though, she was strangely tight-lipped. That wouldn't do. "No, Ino, please… I need to hear that," he beseeched.

She put her food down in her lap and looked at him. He saw all of her weaknesses then… the ones she never wanted to talk about. Vulnerability. Loneliness. Desires. "I've seen the way you are with Kurenai-sensei," she said softly. "You care for her, and you take care of each other. You're smiling when you don't even realize it. Maybe you don't want to say anything about it, but like it or not, taking care of Asuma's family has made you ridiculously happy. And someday…" she trailed off, her eyes drifting skyward, to the mythical place where dreams are born. A secretive smile appeared on her face. "Someday, I want someone to feel like that around me."

He wanted to hug her, to let her know she wasn't alone. So he did. "Thanks, Ino," he said, his lips accidentally brushing her ear. He felt her stiffen in his grip, so he released her just as swiftly. 

"No," she mumbled, grasping his hands. "Don't pull away."

He blinked. "You tensed up."

"You touched me," she whispered.

"Did I?" he flirted, wishing he had the words back as soon as they left his mouth. He didn't want this. He didn't want her, not like that. But when she tilted her chin up to search his face, he shut his eyes and let her kiss him.

It lasted mere moments. Either of them would have expected it to be a magical experience, rife with answers to life's biggest questions. But after only a few heartbeats, they practically flew apart, laughing. "Did you feel what I just felt?" Ino struggled to say through her laughter.

"You mean, did I  _not_  feel what you just  _didn't_  feel?" Still laughing, she nodded.

"Yeah… that was totally like kissing my brother. No sparks and fireworks for you either, huh?" He shook his head. After the giggles died down, she took a deep breath and released it. "What a relief," she said, smiling at him.

"Yeah, no kidding," he said, running a hand through his hair.

They resumed their original seating, near but not too near, and spent the rest of the afternoon in relative comfort. Perhaps they were not soul mates, but what had transpired this afternoon was important anyhow. There  _were_  answers to some of life's big questions hidden in that kiss.  _Am I in love with Shikamaru?_ No.  _Will Shikamaru ever love me?_ No.  _Does Shikamaru even like girls?_ Yes.  _Are we going to be friends forever, no matter what?_ Yes.  _Does he care about me?_ Yes.  _Will I ever be happy?_ The last question used to keep her awake at night. But now? She thought about the way her heart at fluttered when he'd held her hand, the way she'd thrilled at the sight of his smile, before they had kissed and dispelled the truth.

 _Yes_.

* * *

 

The sun was setting as he walked her home. They weren't holding hands anymore, but both of them were smiling as if the date had been some grand success. When they reached the door to her house, they said their goodbyes. "Shikamaru, thank you. I really appreciated today. Even with the…"

She didn't have to complete the sentence. "I had a great time, too. Thanks for the experience." He leaned forward and kissed her chastely on the cheek. "Not complete without the goodnight kiss," he told her, jamming his hands in his pockets.

"Despite everything, Shikamaru… that was the best date I've ever had in my life. I'll never forget it." Her smile was sad… but hopeful.

"You gonna be okay?" he asked her, once again her caretaker, as he'd always been.

She nodded, certain. "That's one thing I'm definitely sure of. You've done more for me today than you may ever know. Thank you. I mean it."

He smiled, relieved. "That's good to hear. You deserve to be happy, too. Goodnight, Ino."

"Goodnight, Shikamaru."


	5. Mango

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers: this is the chapter that caused my story to be banned on fanfiction.net. I'm still just so appalled by that fact that I'm a little obsessive about it. I don't really think it's all that bad, when you place it next to some of the other work over there.
> 
> Anyway... what that means is that from this chapter on out, even the people who had been following my story don't know what happens. :D 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Takes place approx. 3 months after Chapter 3.

             _“Shikamaru…” she purred into his ear._

_“Tell me what you want,” he whispered, nuzzling her neck. “Tell me everything.”_

_“You. All of you.”_

_“You know all you need do is ask.”_

_“I know. But I don’t want to have to ask. I want you to take it. Take whatever you want. It’s yours.”_

_He groaned at the admission, pressing his body against hers, wanting to show her how he felt. “You’re sure?”_

_She groaned, tangling her fingers in his hair. “Never been more sure of anything in my life. My word as a Shinobi.”_

_“Say my name. Look into my eyes as you say it.”_

_Her ruby colored eyes flew open, eyelids at half mast. Her full, lush lips curved upward in a sly smile. “Shikamaru…”_

_He gripped her neck, enjoying the way her chin fit there so perfectly. One more word from her and he was going to tear her apart._

“Shikamaru,” a quiet voice said into his ear.

            Weeks of dealing with the sensitivities of a two year old had sharpened his senses and honed his ability to wake up instantaneously. His eyelids snapped open, locking onto the set of eyes he’d been dreaming about. “Kurenai!” he exclaimed in a loud whisper.

            “Shhh,” she insisted, trying to hide her smile. “Wouldn’t want to wake her.” Her gaze slid sideways, indicating the hanger-on in his lap. Chisuzu had her hands wound tightly into a pillow that was covering his lap, hiding his unasked-for erection.

            _Thank goodness for that_ , he thought, embarrassed. What was up with that dream? He’d never thought of Kurenai in that way. Dreams were bizarre, he decided. _I can’t be held responsible for whatever crazy nonsense my brain comes up with while I’m sleeping._ But heavens, he’d enjoyed every moment of that smutty dream, even had to stifle a groan to remember it. Best not do that. “How was your mission?” he asked her instead, hoping a change in subject would calm his traitorous body down.

            She shook her head with a smile, black mane swaying as she did it. How had he never noticed that before? “Get her to bed, then we’ll talk.”

            “Alright,” he conceded. He breathed an audible sigh of relief when she turned away from him to unpack her rucksack, and seized the opportunity to sweep the child up as he stood and turned in one motion, hiding the evidence of his dream. Chisuzu barely stirred at all; they’d had a pretty full day of piggy back, hide and seek, and some bizarre game that only she had understood where she laughed for hours at something on the wall that apparently only she could see. She was exhausted. Waking her would be near impossible, and if she woke, the results of an awakened, exhausted toddler would probably be disastrous.

            When he safely returned to the living room, Kurenai had a gift for him. It was a neatly wrapped plain package tied with twine and finished with a bow. He was shocked by the sweetness of the thought and troubled by the memory of his dream, but he thanked her politely and took it from her as she regaled him with the tales of her mission. “We went somewhere I’d never been before,” she remarked. “I think Lady Tsunade did it on purpose. It was more like a vacation than a mission really. The Land of Mangoes,” she said, exultant.

            What he unwrapped was a miracle. A mango. Mangoes, as far as he knew, did not grow anywhere in any of the nations nearby, which meant she had gone pretty far for her mission. That explained the time she’d been gone: nearly three months. In fact, he’d never heard of the Land of Mangoes. As the words “thank you” fell from his mouth, he felt in his soul that it would never be enough. Simple it might seem, but a ripe mango was an exceedingly rare treat for anyone living in Konoha.

            “It’s nothing compared to how much you’ve helped me out over the years, and particularly the past few months. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for taking care of Chisuzu for me.” Her smile was bright and disarming. When he was able to peel his eyes away from the extraordinary gift she’d given him, he noticed how much happier she seemed for having been able to get away. Her cheeks were flushed with color, her smile came easier, and her eyes were bright with life. She seemed… young and carefree.

            And with his dream fresh in his mind, the revelation frightened him. He swallowed, unable to find words to continue this conversation, a pit roaring to life in the depths of his gut like a relit furnace. Something was wrong with him, surely. He was _not_ having impure thoughts about his teacher’s lover.

            “Something wrong?” she asked out of genuine concern. Her shoulders abruptly slumped. “You don’t like it,” she said with a frown, looking at the mango. “I should have gotten the carving, like Anko said.”

            He forced a smile onto his face. “No, Kurenai, it’s perfect. It’s _too_ grand, even. I love it.” He was glad for her obvious relief. Crisis averted. “And nothing’s wrong. I’m just tired, probably. Sorry about that.”

            She let go of a deep breath, her happiness restored. “Ah, good. I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have woken you.”

            “It’s okay,” he assured her. “So you enjoyed your mission then?”

            Her cheerful smile returned in full force. “Oh, yes. It was _divine_. It was just Anko, Shizune, Tenten and I. I have no idea how we were selected for it. My guess is that the Lady Hokage just picked the four women that she felt were in the direst need for a vacation. Anko gets cranky when she’s been working too long without a break. Shizune hasn’t had a day off in seven months, and apparently Tenten’s hung up on some guy.”

            “Probably Neji. He’s a major pain in the ass,” he told her.

            She blinked in surprise. “Neji Hyuuga? I had no idea!”

            Her innocent ignorance was utterly charming. “The one and only. Can’t say we didn’t all see that coming, though. Tenten’s a good girl, and Neji’s pretty showy. It was only a matter of time before they grew up enough that she’d want to see him with his shirt off. Poor girl,” he added.

            “Yeah, she didn’t seem too happy about it,” Kurenai confirmed. “But, the only part of our mission that was really any work was to deliver a message to the daimyo. Whoever sent it didn’t want it to be intercepted. I think they probably went a little bit overboard, but they paid for an A-rank mission, and they got an A-rank team. Tsunade must have seen right through it for what it was, though, and she sent us.”

            “I’m glad she did,” he told her. “You look like you might have needed it.”

            “What do you mean?” she asked curiously.

            “You just look… better somehow,” he offered with a shrug.

            She paused and looked away, considering his words. “Dammit,” she spat at last. “I’m going to have to thank her for this, aren’t I?”

            His eyes widened at the curse, then he burst out laughing. “I imagine so!”

            She chuckled right along with him.

            When the laughter subsided, though, he realized that he was still overwhelmingly tired. “Alright, Kurenai… I’m glad you’re back, but I’m really tired, and I think I better go.”

            She blinked. “I just assumed you would stay here,” she blurted, heedless of the invisible consequences.

            It wasn’t an unusual statement. He’d slept over plenty of times before. The couch was pretty much his second bed. Somehow or another, he managed to pass out in her house hundreds of times in the past. On the other hand, the dream she had roused him from was bothering him greatly, and he didn’t think it was a good idea to be in her house tonight. “I appreciate it, Kurenai, but I haven’t been home in too long. My mom is probably steaming at the ears by now. I’m frankly shocked she hasn’t dragged me home by the hair.”

            She relented. “Alright. I can understand the way she feels. Tell her I’m sorry about the short notice. And Shikamaru… I’m sorry for what I’ve put you through, too.” Her brows creased with concern.

            “Don’t mention it,” he assured her. “She was no trouble at all. Honest.”

            “That’s good to hear. Thanks again.”

            “Anytime. Goodnight, Kurenai.”

            She waggled her fingers at him in farewell, and at long last, he put the door between him and the object of one very unwelcome dream.

* * *

 

Shikamaru peered over at his clock.

5:03 a.m.

Dammit, he thought, still unable to sleep. He played the scene of his dreams over and over and his head. He couldn’t help it. Where in the world had that even come from? He cursed his overactive mind for cursing him with the thought of sleeping with Kurenai. It was something that he’d never be able to forget now. He could remember her warmth, and her softness, and the way she’d said his name.

_Shikamaru…_

Remembering it inflamed him, and he groaned aloud at the unwelcome but very insistent erection. His name on her lips was a caress. No, a benediction, even, to his lonely ears. _Why_ hadn’t he been dating? If he’d had someone in his life, such a careless dream would have been easily brushed aside. He could write it off as a Freudian slip of the brain, pasting Kurenai’s face—the face he saw most often—with the memories of sleeping with whoever he was dating. But it wasn’t.

_Shikamaru…_

He wrapped his pillow around his head, trying to shut out the sultry sound of her voice in his ears. It was inside his head, though, not outside of it, and no amount of hiding could shut her out. His groin was throbbing with need, not willing to let him sleep unless he addressed it. He’d already been fighting sleep for over three hours.

 _I. Will. Not,_ he told himself for the umpteenth time. Like it had a mind of its own, his dick would not cooperate.

_You will!_

_NO!_

_YES!_

_I'm_ not _doing this!_

_DO IT._

Inner turmoil was no stranger to Shikamaru, but never before had he been confronted by a problem like this. Masturbate to the mental image of a woman nearly twice his age, or never sleep again?

5:45 a.m. came and went. Then 6:00.

 _Fuck it,_ he decided with shame and anger. It’s not like anyone would know about it anyway. He reached down and grabbed ahold of himself, shutting his eyes against the world. He didn't bother with any build up; he already had that in spades. He worked himself furiously with her red eyes in his mind’s eye, raging at his own horrible imagination and the betrayal of his body. He went at it like he was trying to strangle the thing between his legs as he remembered the sound of his name on her lips. _Just go away!_ he mentally shouted at his cock as she told him to take what he wanted and scrabbled her fingers over his chest.

In just a few minutes, it was over. He felt miserable at having done it, but almost giddy that it was done. “Thank goodness,” he said to his dark room. He heaved a great shuddering sigh of relief, and before long, was fast asleep.


	6. Confessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Approx. 1 year after the events in Chapter 5.

He nearly cried with relief when Ino opened the door. He couldn't handle this alone anymore, and he didn't know who else to go to. He was rather depending on her penchant for romance to understand his plight. "Oh thank goodness," he breathed with relief when the door creaked open and revealed his—much happier looking—blonde teammate. He fell to his knees. "Ino, I have something I need to talk to you about. Can we meet at the café?"

He saw uncertainty in her eyes. She bit her lip and glanced away, seemingly unsure. Why the hesitation? Was she angry with him for some reason? "Sure," she finally said.

He filed away a mental note to ask her what was going on, but right now this was too important. "Great. Thanks." He waited impatiently for her to get her jacket. It _was_ chilly.

She emerged a couple of minutes later pushing her arms through the sleeves of a black jacket, the zipper jingling. "Let's go then, fearless leader," she said to him with a smile.

Their favorite booth was open. In fact, the place was deserted. Shikamaru actually found that rather odd, considering the chilly weather. Coffee shops experienced an increase in custom during chilly weather. He paid for both of their coffees and joined her in the booth. She was sitting on her hands, trying to warm up her fingers. "Thanks," she said when he put her latte down on the tabletop in front of her.

He didn't have time for politeness. "I... I'm so thoroughly  _fucked_ , Ino."

She took in his appearance. His hair was disheveled. There were bags under his eyes as if he hadn't slept in weeks. She hadn't seen him this discombobulated since… "Who died?" she asked suddenly horrified, holding her breath.

"No, it's not like that," he muttered, shaking his head with impatience.

Her relief was obvious. "Then what it is it?" she pressed, fidgeting in her chair.

"Promise not to say anything to anyone?" he asked. If she had told him she was planning on publishing it in the newspaper, he probably would have told her anyway, he reflected grimly. He had to tell someone or he was going to perish of his own shame.

"It's not exactly my strong suit," she cautioned, "but you're really freaking me out so sure, why not. What's up?"

"Oh nothing, only that I realized that I'm falling in love with Kurenai." The confession poured right out of his mouth.  _Thank goodness_ , it was finally out. Someone else knew. For better or worse, at least he had told someone and didn't have to endure his shame alone anymore. Her mouth dropped open in genuine shock. She opened and shut her lips several times, words failing her. She shook her head gently in disbelief, blonde ponytail dancing behind her.

"I can't believe it. Ino Yamanaka is speechless," he teased, hoping to jar her out of her astonishment.  _Say something, Ino!_

"No," she managed finally, and then more strongly, "No. You can't. She's... and Asuma and her...and... you just  _can't_."

"No shit I can't, Ino. That's the problem. But I can't help it. I can't stop. I've tried. I've been holding it back for like… a year now." A year of agonizing daydreams and onesided sexual tension. Telling himself that it wasn't going to happen was doing no good at all. The rebellious spirit of a man only made him want it more.

"Are you kidding me? Wow!" She pushed the coffee aside and promptly forgot about it. "So, what are you going to do about it?"

"I don't know, Ino, that's why I need your help. What am I supposed to do?" He dropped his head into his hands, pushing his eyebrows out of their usual spot on his face, and waited, hoping by some insane miracle that Ino had some sort of solution for him. Not bloody likely.

"Sounds kind of like you're thoroughly fucked," she said wryly instead, smirking at him. "You finally have a problem you can't fix. Unless…" she trailed off, teasing. He perked up, thinking she'd miraculously solved the impossible. He'd kiss her  _for_   _real_  if she did. "Yes," she mused, dancing her fingers together with a devious scheming smile slowly blooming upon her face. "That might just work."

"What?" he asked, hungry for the answer. "Please, Ino, I'm dying here."

She slowly sipped her coffee, building the suspense. He wanted to strangle her. "You could just…" her eyes glittered, "...make your move on her."

Now it was his turn to be shocked. He repeated all of her protestations back at her. "You can't be serious, Ino. She's Asuma's widow. She's… older than me." Not that the concept wasn't pleasing to him, but seriously?

She propped an elbow on the table and tipped her head onto it. "Well, hear me out okay?" He nodded, grudgingly. "If she weren't Asuma's widow, and you didn't know how old she was, or that she had a child, would you find her attractive?"

"Yeah," he replied without hesitation.

"If you had just met her for the first time, how old would you guess her to be?" She reclaimed her coffee and took a sip, watching him carefully as he puzzled it out with her.

"Twenty…five?"

Her head tipped in agreement. "And that's an acceptable age by anyone's standards, as you're nearly twenty-one. Good. Now, imagine you have just met her at this very café for the very first time. You start talking to her and realize you like her. You hit it off, you invite her to your home—assuming you don't live with your mother, of course, because that's just weird—and she accepts. The next day, you find out she's the ex-girlfriend of one of your friends, she has a three year old, and she's more than ten years older than you. Would you... what, dump her on the spot?"

"No," he blurted automatically, unthinking. "That would be needlessly cruel. I'd basically be telling her that she was someone else's cheap castoff and that she was an old hag, neither of which are-" His eyes widened at the realization, and he sank back in the booth, defeated. He saw what she'd done. "Oh."

"Exactly!" she crowed, triumphant. "So what's the problem?" She sipped her coffee with satisfaction. It tasted like victory with a hint of romance.  _Delicious_.

He stared at her. "You're a vicious enabler, you know that? You were supposed to deride me for being a pervert and tell me to grow up."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, Shikamaru, you disgusting pervert. Grow up," she placated.

He frowned. "That wasn't very convincing."

She threw up her hands in frustration. "You tell me to give you advice, I give it. Then you tell me to insult you and I deliver. Make up your mind, Shikamaru. Do you want the woman or not?"

"Why me?" he moaned, ignoring her.

"Get over yourself, Shikamaru. You're an adult and so is she. You like her, she's single… I see no issue here." She looked around the room for a clock. "I can't believe I stood up my date for this." Her facial expression said otherwise. This was the juiciest piece of gossip she'd had in  _weeks_.

 _Aha!_  That explained her earlier behavior! "Wait… you had a date?" She blushed and became overly interested in the lid of her coffee cup. He felt a pang of curiosity that was very Ino-esque, and tried to ignore that fact. He still hadn't completely forgiven her for the awesome date that had surely contributed to a certain fateful dream that was probably the root of all of his problems. If only he'd have stayed blissfully ignorant of the wiles of women!

"Yeahhh…" she dodged, not addressing the unspoken question:  _with whom?_ Shikamaru just stared at her, waiting. His patience was glacial compared to hers. He'd wait and she'd be so excited to tell someone that she'd spill eventually. "You won't laugh?" she asked shyly instead.

She was acting... differently... than Ino normally did. He smirked at her and threw her words back at her. "It's not my strong suit, but sure." Now it was his turn to nurse his coffee as she made her confession.

"Okay. After  _our_  date, I did a lot of self-reflection, and I've realized I don't often see the sweeter side of people who are… less fortunate looking. And by that I mean I don't even _see_ guys who are not smoking hot. _I'mnotproudofit_ ," she added hastily when she caught Shikamaru's withering look. "So I started an experiment. I've been closing my eyes a lot when I'm not walking. In doing so, I've done a lot of listening. I've heard the way people talk about others, and to others."

Shikamaru nodded appreciatively. "Interesting approach. I like it. How'd it go?"

A slow, relaxed smile bloomed slowly on her pretty face. "I was at work minding the flower shop and I heard the door ringer. Whoever it was moved slowly, gracefully, and deliberately. He had the walk of a man who was browsing. Appreciating. When men come to the flower shop, most are there for a holiday or to right a wrong with a woman. They don't  _really_  care about the flowers. He wasn't. I asked him what brought him in today, and he said, 'once upon a time, two beautiful ladies gave me flowers when I wasn't well. They paled in comparison to the ladies that gave them to me, but were so lovely that I wished to see the shop that had produced such beauty. I see now, it is not the shop that is responsible, but the shopkeeper.'"

Shikamaru snorted. "That's the cheesiest pick up line I've ever heard," he joked, knowing it would put her on the defensive.

"It is not!" she countered, proving him right. She swooned as she launched back into her narrative. "It's romantic. It's the nicest compliment I've ever received. Then he grabbed my fingers and touched them to his lips. At that moment I decided that whoever had those lips, which had said such sweet things and given me the softest kiss and utterly made my day, was going to be my next date. I wouldn't have cared if he was twelve or fifty, fat or skinny, scarred, blind, married, whatever. I wanted him."

His lips twitched, trying not to laugh. It was truly fascinating to watch Ino get worked up over a compliment, but if he interrupted again he might not ever hear who it was. He waited.

"I opened my eyes, and the polite, eloquent gentleman was none other than  _Rock Lee_." She blushed slightly and hid behind her coffee cup, trying not to let Shikamaru see her flush.

"No!" he gasped in surprise. "You're shitting me!" Ino? And Lee? The color of insults he'd heard her spew over the years would make a nun blush. The haircut... and the jumpsuit... and _THOSE EYEBROWS...!_

She shook her head and smiled at him. "Nope. I've been out with him twice." She took a deep breath. It came out as a romantic sigh. "Shikamaru… I think I'm in love." She giggled prettily, the blush spreading over her nose.

He leaned back in the booth and grinned at her. It was nice to see her happy. He looked back over the years and wondered how much would have been different if Ino had just possessed a little more patience before. Things were going to be different now, in a better way. Choji was happily marching to the altar, Ino had ironically ended up with the goofiest looking dude in their age bracket, and he…

…wasn't ready to think about what awaited him.

"What's wrong?" she asked, concerned. "Your smile disappeared. It's not something I said, is it?"

"No," he said grimly, eyes fixed on a distant point out the window. "I'm just… scared, I guess." He shook his head, hardly believing it himself.

"Of?"

"Kurenai. Love. Being a dad. Being a husband. Having a family." He paused. "Being happy." All of the words tasted unfamiliar on his tongue. Not bad… just… weird. Scared wasn't even the right word. Petrified, maybe? Make his  _move_  on her? Yeah, right. Talking about it with Ino helped, but he felt certainty like others felt hot or cold, as if it were a cloak over his skin. He could  _not_  have Kurenai. He just  _knew_.

"It'll work out," Ino said to him, grinning like an idiot for once. "It did for Choji. It did for me." As if it was settled now. Because things worked for Ino, they must work for everyone. Layman's logic. A fallacy of the common man.

He wished he shared her clarity. What must it like to be less smart? "Thanks, Ino. I do feel a lot better," he lied.

Despite having been friends their whole lives, neither of his friends had ever figured out how to tell when he was lying. It was probably better that way. It was easier to be happy when you couldn't see the flaws. Often he'd wondered what it'd be like to be a dog, drooling with idiocy and elated by the tiniest things. Or a cloud, blissfully devoid of brains at all, lighter than air.

She winked at him. "Any time, Shikamaru. Here to help!"


	7. Acceptance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dunno... a few months later than the last chapter?

Slowly, oh so slowly, the scent of coffee and pancakes pulled Shikamaru from a dream that he had already forgotten. The sensation that it was something spectacular, however, remained. He groaned and rolled to his side, burying his face into the perfume-fragranced couch cushions. Coffee and pancakes or not, he was not ready to be awake. In a distant location he only assumed could be a kitchen, someone was humming happily. Still sluggish from a sleepiness he couldn't shake off, the humming annoyed him. As the tune continued, though, he decided it had a nice melody, and before long, his toes started wagging of their own accord, clearly agreeing with him.

Eventually, he lost the battle. The song was too sweet, the scent of pancakes too distracting, and the promise of coffee too enticing. He sat up on the edge of the couch and roared out a mighty yawn, scrubbing a hand across his droopy eyes. No one ever accused him of being a graceful loser.

Something in his blankets stirred, catching his attention. He dragged back the covers to reveal his favorite three year old. Moments after exposing her to the lights in the room, said three year old winked open one eye and glared at him. He couldn't help but smile. "Good morning, Monster," he greeted her fondly, ruffled her black hair.

From the origin of the pancake and coffee smell, a rich voice chuckled. "More like afternoon," Kurenai corrected.

Shikamaru grinned sheepishly. "Did I fall asleep here again?" It was a common enough occurrence. Chisuzu, the three year old who was, even now, hiding in his blankets, sapped all of his attention and energy. Her bright smile and uncanny intelligence continuously amazed and delighted him, and he found himself indulging her every whim. 'Build blanket forts with me' and 'please don't leave me Shika' were impossible requests to deny. He only ever intended on staying until she was satisfied—or better, asleep—but somehow he always fell victim to her sleeping spell, and before he knew it, he was waking up on Kurenai's couch again. Shameful. His mother was going to have a fit. Again.

Kurenai's only response was to chuckle and shake her head.

Chisuzu had something to say about it though. "You fell asleep before me this time, Shika," she told him with a shy smile. "And," she added with a frown, "you fell asleep on my foot." She pouted to let him know how she felt about  _that_.

"Did I?" he cooed at her. "I'm sorry. Did you want to get away from me that badly?" He feigned hurt feelings, knowing exactly how she would react, and was rewarded with her immediate reassurance of her affections.

"No, Shika! I wouldn't dream of trying to get away from you!" She scrambled out of the blankets and wound her arms around her neck, using every technique she knew to cheer him up. "I'm sorry! But my foot was hurting and I didn't want to wake you! Please don't be sad!" She pulled away and looked into his face, searching for forgiveness.

He kept his expression neutral as long as he could stand it, reveling in her innocent worry, before breaking out into his best grin. "Chisuzu, you could never make me sad." He kissed her cheek and ruffled her hair again. "Sorry about your foot."

"Oh, that's okay," she responded absently, already forgetting the infraction.

Love of his life. Kurenai's tiny toddler had stolen his heart and locked it away in a dollhouse. No woman would ever be better for him.

When he was done gushing over the little beast, he regarded Kurenai, busy in the kitchen. Not for the first time, he was blown away by how beautiful she looked when she was happy. He held a fervent hope, deeply rooted in his soul, that she would always be so. Realization that he loved her was troubling. It was a secret he would share with no one but Ino, especially not Kurenai herself. He knew that it was wrong on so many levels, but it had happened without his consent. He'd been fighting it for the better part of a year, but had at last given up trying to tell his heart whom to love.

It's just that he was doomed to love her and never be loved in return. No big deal. "Hey," he said to her. "You relax and let me finish those pancakes. You work hard enough."

She smiled and kept on cooking. "I don't really work that hard. They give me all the easy missions so that I'm never in any danger."

He ambled into the kitchen and seized the spatula from her. She gasped in protest. "Nope, I insist. The only way you're getting the spatula back is if you pry it from my dead fingers." She glared at him and pouted.  _Please don't do that,_  he wanted to say.  _It makes me want to suck on that lip._ Fortunately for him, he'd become much better at avoiding obvious arousal. Practice makes perfect. He smirked at her instead, daring her to fight him. "Sit," he commanded.

She sat. Just the mere action of obeying him sent thrills of victory coursing through his blood, and even that was enough to turn him on. Oh, the possibilities inherent in that automatic response! He wanted her pliant.

He poured her a cup of coffee. One teaspoon of sugar and a quarter inch of milk, just the way she liked it. With a knowing smile, he passed her the cup. "You win, Shikamaru," she grumbled with mock annoyance, accepting the coffee.

He watched her first sip, as he always did, greedily soaking up the magical private moment that occurred between a woman and her first cup of coffee. He bit his lip as he did it, knowing she wouldn't even look at him. She never did; this was between her and the cup in her hands, and he was not invited. He watched anyway, like a voyeur from the shadows. She held it aloft before her, both elbows on the counter, and inhaled the steam. The gentle moan of pleasure rolled out of her throat and through her nose, and the sweetest of smiles alighted on her features. Then, without another word or sound, she sipped, slurping delicately. "Ahh. Perfect," she finished.

And the moment was over. He returned his attention to the pancakes, and once again, she'd never know she was the star of a private show just for him that she didn't even know she performed. He flipped the pancakes before pouring himself a cup of coffee (black), and listened to her tell the story of the day ahead of her. "...lunch with Hinata. We're going to that little cafe on the edge of the Village. Have you ever been there?"

"Many times," he confirmed. "Ino and Choji and I each have a secret spot for each pair of us. We use it to meet up when something's going on with the other. Choji and I meet at Ichiraku. Ino and I meet at the cafe." It was a brilliant idea. It let them talk out their troubles without stepping on any toes. And there were seldom people who could or cared to overhear at both of those places. Ichiraku was small. Sometimes Naruto intruded-it was his favorite place to eat after all-but Naruto ate fast and didn't stay long. There was always something going on that he needed to rush off to, usually training. And the cafe was so remote that most of its clientele hardly even knew who he was.

"Ah, wonderful! Your secret is safe with me." She winked at him.

_Please don't do that, Kurenai. I already want to plunder all of your secrets for myself._

"Where do the three of you meet just to meet, though?" she wondered aloud, drumming her fingertips lightly against the side of her mug.

"That's easy. Yakiniku Q." He slid the plate of pancakes over to her, slathered in butter.

"Thanks," she said as she accepted the plate. "And of course. That makes perfect sense. Silly me." She set her coffee cup down next to the plate and picked up a fork.

"Hey, Monster," he called to the three year old sitting on the couch. "Don't you want any pancakes?"

Her face lit up with glee and she launched herself off of the cushions. "Yeah!" she replied. "Duh!"

"Chisuzu!" Kurenai admonished. "We don't say 'duh.' It's impolite." She helped her daughter up into the barstool. A moment later, the two of them were eating pancakes and Shikamaru was flipping some for himself.

"Don't I get coffee?" the little girl asked.

Shikamaru's eyes widened in alarm. A caffeinated three year old? "No!" he yelped. He caught himself before it became a problem though, because surely Chisuzu would feel slighted at being left out. She was already pouting, the spitting image of her mother, when he came up with the perfect solution. "You are so very special that we have prepared a special potion just for you!" He poured her a glass of milk and slid it closer to her plate.

She glared at it, unconvinced. "Looks like milk." Chisuzu hated milk.

He winked at her. "It's unicorn milk."

Her innocent eyes widened with intrigue. "Oh. Well, that's different then." He hid his smile.

Kurenai stopped eating momentarily to stare at him. Then her daughter, and then back to him again. "Anyone ever told you, Shikamaru, what a wonderful father you'd make some day?"

He nearly choked on his coffee.  _Please don't say things like that Kurenai. I've already considered the prospect. With you._  "I'd probably be a pretty lame dad," he lied.  _Please don't believe in me. I'll only love you more._  Was it possible? He didn't intend to find out. For anyone to find out.

Kurenai pushed away her empty plate, rose, and kissed him on the cheek. Innocent enough, but it heated his body from the inside out, just like that. "Thanks for breakfast, Shikamaru. I've gotta get going. I have things to do before I meet Hinata." She kissed Chisuzu next. "Be good for... Shikamaru. Do what he says, okay?" Shikamaru stilled. Why the hesitation on his name?

"Kay. Bye Mommy," the girl said, still utterly focused on her pancakes.

"Bye!"

* * *

 

She couldn't get out of there fast enough. Had she really almost just labeled him 'Daddy?' She was mortified. Hopefully he hadn't noticed. Things had gotten a little too awkward lately. Here she was kissing him on the cheek, complimenting his parenting, and letting him cook her breakfast. Had she finally taken things a little too far? It was just... so easy, letting him rule her household. He was a natural at it. He took to the spotlight like a diamond, reading her every desire and understanding instinctively how to handle every conflict her energetic three year old could throw at him.

If he'd been ten years older...

Best not to have thoughts like that, she stopped herself. She knew where that train of thought led. She'd traveled it more times than she could count. It ended with Shikamaru never going back to his own bed and the couch never being slept in again. It ended with pancakes and mundane chit chat over coffee every morning. It ended with...

_'Daddy.'_

In every way that mattered, Shikamaru had married himself in already. She furiously tried to quash the feeling. He wasn't interested in her like that. He'd be appalled if he even knew she'd had the fleeting thought. Pressing a fist into her gut to stop the butterflies--she did not have feelings for Asuma's student--she put distance between her and her makeshift family.

It became a chant. _I do not have feelings for Asuma's student. I do not have feelings for Asuma's student. I do not--_

"Fuck."


	8. The Magic of Weddings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was, actually, a chapter I randomly decided needed to be thrown in here, because I didn't feel as if there was enough Kurenai in my story. Oddly enough, this might have turned out to be my favorite chapter. When you're done reading it, let me know how my little experiment turned out, if you would. I'm quite proud of this one. :D

She swept the hangers aside and perused her closet. What to wear today? With her oddly colored eyes, there were really only a handful of colors that looked nice on her, but wasn't red a little…  _scandalous…_  for a wedding? She twisted her mouth in concentration, but her closet was a box of bad news. Everything she owned was red, black, and white. Red was a promiscuous color for a wedding. Black was for mourning. White was reserved for the bride. She filed away a mental note to go shopping for some more colors, but it was too late for her today.

Sighing with failure, she selected her least offensive red dress, a deep wine color that was close enough to purple that she could feign ignorance and pretend that it was. It also had a high enough bodice as to contain her cleavage—she was a mother, after all, not a loose, single widow—and a long enough skirt. Combine that with some tasteful makeup, and she should be set to go. Pretty enough to feel it, demure enough not to outshine the bride. After all, it was the Moegi’s day, not Kurenai's, and it was supposed to be special.

She swallowed a pang of jealousy. Once upon a time, she was supposed to be a bride. If Asuma had lived, she would have been.  _Not today_ , she admonished herself for mourning.  _Today is a happy day._

Today she was Shikamaru's +1, and Chisuzu was spending the day at a professional daycare center with other kids. Normally, he would have gone with Ino, but recently Ino had acquired her own +1, and Shikamaru didn't want to be without a +1 as the best man. "I'll be swarmed with drunken bridesmaids," he groaned melodramatically. "Way more attention than I want. Will you go with me, please?" He looked so abysmally despondent that she couldn't deny him. She didn't mind; it wasn't often she had a chance to dress up. Being a single mom meant she didn't have to try to impress anyone, and most times she just wore whatever was comfortable. Her lovelier outfits had been abandoned for so long that she had practically forgotten what was in there.

She hummed as she applied subtle eye makeup and brushed her hair, all the while thinking of the day ahead of her. She wanted to look really nice. If anyone had a reason to look at her, she wanted to prove to them that she could still be truly elegant if she had a half a mind to do so. People would be looking at Shikamaru, so they'd be looking at her, too.

She paused in her application with the mascara wand and abruptly stopped humming. Would everyone think she was actually with him? Suddenly, she was very worried that her actual presence there might hurt his reputation. If they thought she was taking advantage of him, or that he was just feeling sorry for her…

She shook her head violently, erasing the thought.  _Happy day_ , she reminded herself.  _Shikamaru's a legendary genius… I'm sure he's already thought about it. He wouldn't have invited me to go along if something bad would happen._  Satisfied with her logic, she finished prettying up and locked up her house. Shikamaru would be at the wedding already. He had certain responsibilities of preparation in getting Choji ready for his big day. He'd meet her in the reception area after the ceremony was over.

* * *

 

"Kiba, you clean up well!" she exclaimed as one of her students led her with linked arms to her seat. He and Udon were chosen as ushers. It was… refreshing… to see her normally rumpled, smelly student trying to be proper, for once.

He grimaced. "The perfumes and colognes are making my nose itch," he complained, scrunching up his face to keep from having to reach for it. "I almost wish I could have  _another_  bath to wash the fragrances  _off_  my skin."

She chuckled at his displeasure. "Nonetheless, Kiba, you look very handsome," she told him with a genuine smile.

"Thanks," he replied with a grin. "You look gorgeous, as usual." She blushed under the praise. Kiba was just being polite, but the compliment was welcome anyhow. "Here you are, Kurenai-sensei," he told her with a wave of his free hand. She thanked him, and he bent down to give her a kiss on the cheek. "See you at the reception!"

A little while later, Udon delivered Ino and… Rock Lee? Kurenai blinked, then rubbed her eyes in disbelief. But yep, there he was, thankfully in tasteful formal attire instead of his usual green monstrosity. And with Ino. Had she missed that, too? Ino graced her with a smile. "You look amazing, Kurenai-sensei," Ino mentioned. "I love your dress!"

"Truly stunning, Kurenai-sensei," Lee also assured her. "It is so nice to see you again. How is your daughter?"

How nice it was to talk to someone new once in a while! "Chisuzu is growing up way too fast," she confessed. "She'll be four soon, but acts more like sixteen," she joked. "Before you know it, she'll be the one at this altar and I'll be the one bawling like a toddler."

"Cherish her childhood while you can," he agreed, "but she will surely be as fine a Shinobi as both of her parents, and that you can be proud of, too."

Ino beamed at the politeness of her date, as if to say  _Isn't he wonderful?_ Kurenai would have to agree with her. She'd seldom had any conversations with him, but he sure did know how to make friends. Rock Lee had turned into a very nice young man. It was still an interesting match, though. From what Kurenai knew of Ino, she was a nice girl, but generally shallow. Today, she was singing a whole different tune. She would have to ask Shikamaru what had changed. Last Kurenai had heard, Ino was still with Sasuke. Now  _that_  guy was a piece of work. She felt sorry for whichever poor girl ended up with him.

Their polite conversation was interrupted when the music started and the wedding party made their way down the aisle. She only vaguely knew most of them. The girls were all friends of Moegi's, and she knew only their names and a hazy understanding of their abilities. Choji's wedding party consisted of Naruto, Shikamaru, and Konohamaru as his groomsmen. She smiled wryly to see Shikamaru in formal attire. She knew how much he hated stuffy social obligations and the stiff, unyielding fabric of formal clothes. Despite that, though, he was smiling and looked genuinely happy. His best friend was getting married, after all.

The ceremony was beautiful, of course. Moegi was utterly breathtaking. Kurenai was overcome with joy for the new couple; they looked absolutely head over heels in love. The emotionally charged ceremony was enough to drown all of her jealousy and forget for a while. Choji had eyes only for his bride, and she was smiling demurely, eyes shining with nothing but love. They were very lucky to have each other.

Finally, the officiant gave the order for there to be a kiss, and the gathered audience clapped and whistled. Naruto gave a fist pump and a loud whoop, and behind her she could here Kiba howling his approval. Shikamaru merely clapped and grinned. He was never much of a showboat. Kurenai laughed at all the different reactions. A few years ago, no one would have guessed that Choji would be the first of them to get married. Actually, Kurenai had thought it'd be Kiba. His brazen personality made him the most likely to aggressively pursue the woman he desired. It was actually pretty strange for all of them—Lee, Neji, Naruto, Sasuke, Shikamaru, Shino, Kiba, Hinata, Sakura, Ino, and Tenten—to have lived the dangerous, oftentimes brief life of a ninja and feel no real urgency to pair off and start families.

Shikamaru would make someone a great husband someday.

As if summoned, Shikamaru broke away from the still clapping wedding party and made his way over to her. His face split into an even wider grin as he approached. "Well, he's married off, now!" Shikamaru proclaimed. He kissed her on the cheek. "And you look absolutely beautiful."

She felt as if her heart had been struck by lightning. She hadn't been expecting a greeting kiss nor the stellar compliment, and they'd thrown her entirely off-guard. Somehow, she managed to murmur "thank you" as he slipped his arm around her and led her to the rows of tables where the food was being kept. He was complaining about his Best Man speech; it was only idle chatter to fill the silence as they found their seats.

That was good. The kiss and the compliment had instantly awakened a wicked beast inside of her, one that had been sleeping since Asuma had died. Something about the atmosphere had her craving male attention. She was dressed to the nines, trying to look her best. Trying to seem worthy of male attention. The wedding was lovely, and had stirred up her dormant dreams of having a wedding of her own someday. Most, if not all, of the people close to her were coupled up and happy: Naruto and Hinata, Choji and Moegi, Ino and Lee… It was the perfect storm, priming her cells for something she still didn't feel ready for: a relationship of her own.

Shikamaru's hand on the small of her back was just meant to be a matter of protocol. He had invited her here as his 'date,' even if the intentions had been completely innocent, so he was meant to be by her side for the entire evening. And yet… it felt like a hot brand on her back, as if he was claiming her for his own subconsciously. The thought made her cheeks heat and her heart skip beats. Panic rose within her. Surely she wasn't honestly thinking about him in that way…?!

"You all right?" he asked, his voice low and silky, tinged with concern. "You're suddenly looking a little unwell. I can take you home—"

She shook her head. "I'm fine." He looked wary. "No really, it's okay. It's just that… Asuma and I were engaged," she said softly with a shrug.

His brows knitted together. "I never knew. I'm sorry." She shrugged again. "I can take you home," he repeated.

"No," she insisted. "You have a speech to make." Choji was a good man. He needed his best man and his best man’s speech to make this day complete.

"It's just words, Kurenai," he clarified, "and nothing Choji hasn't heard before. Nothing's more important than you."

Her eyes widened, suspicion crashing into her with all of the grace of a goose. She had considered, before, that he might be developing feelings for her, but the careless words had left his mouth. She waited for it, but he didn't bother to try to take them back. Now wasn't the time to question him, either. It would probably be best for her if she forgot he'd ever said it. Pretend it never happened. His expression never wavered. If he was worried, or regretful, about what he'd said, he sure didn't show it.

She had to know for sure. There was no way she was leaving this wedding now. Not for anything. She smiled wickedly at him. "No way am I letting you get out of a speech that easily," she teased.

His smile returned. "As long as you're alright," his sweet voice relented. "It's Choji, and me," he said. "I'm not that worried about this speech."

Inside, she felt as if a switch had been flipped. Suddenly, she was seeing things she hadn't really noticed before. His voice, when inflected just so, was the voice of seduction. It pierced through all of her defenses straight into her soul. He put the needs of everyone he cared about before his own. He smelled wonderful, clean and ever so subtly scented with a spicy cologne. He truly was handsome, and his warm fingers on her back… she wanted to be closer.  _Hold me…_  She wanted to cry.

Shikamaru zipped off to meet back up with the wedding party to prepare for his speech. The rest of the wedding guests were drifting in now, faces alight with the potential of a raucous party to celebrate the brightest moment in the lives of Choji and Moegi Akimichi. Their joy was infectious, and before she knew it, her worries were erased entirely. Watching the two lock lips when they were goaded into kissing again and again, how they blushed and laughed and whispered in each other's ears… they looked so very  _happy_.

And at long last, Kurenai stopped thinking that her dreams were impossible.

A clear, crystalline tapping rang into their ears, and all at once, all eyes were on Shikamaru. "Ladies and gentlemen," he began, "they say that the best man's speech is the groom's worst five minutes of the day. The bride's, on the other hand…" He smirked. "Well, they'll get to that later." The crowd laughed. Kurenai stifled a giggle. "Choji and I have been best friends since childhood. You'll never meet a man more trustworthy or loyal. When we were genin, he was prepared to sacrifice his life just to buy me some time. We've been through a lot. There have been good times… and sad times… but at the end of the day, I'm proud that this guy's got my back, and he knows I've always got his. It brings me some peace knowing that this woman—" he gestured toward Moegi—"is going to take care of my main man. I hear she's a  _stellar_  cook." That drew more laughter. Shikamaru played the crowd. "And you  _know_  that's important!" Their laughter redoubled, and took much longer to quiet down this time.

His tone grew more serious. "For anyone who has had the distinct pleasure of being near these two as their relationship has bloomed into the beautiful thing that it is now, you know. But for the others, know this: as you seek love, use my buddy Choji and this lovely woman at his side as your standard. See in their faces how they feel about each other, and hope to be half as lucky in your search. Don't settle. In this world of extremes, one can only love too little. We could all be dead any day. Let's live without regrets. If you've struggled with that before, make tonight the night you commit to it. Make tonight the night that we all live. And Choji," he said, turning to his friend with a mischievous glitter in his eyes, brows drawn. "Choji, tonight is the night that you...  _really_  live. Enjoy it, buddy. Cheers everyone!"

The crowd erupted in cheers and clapping, and Kurenai found herself moved by his words. She wondered at what kind of personal journey everyone else was on, and how Shikamaru's words had affected them as well. A quick glance at their faces told her that they, too, were determined to take his words to heart.  _Live without regrets. One can only love too little. Live._ It had all the feeling of a subliminal message just for her. After scanning the crowd, she returned her attention to the speaker.

Her breath caught and her hands ceased their clapping. Shikamaru had his glass just barely to his lips...and he was staring right at her with all the heat of a thousand suns. Her heart began racing. No man had looked at her like that since Asuma. His eyes never left hers as he drained his glass and crossed the room to where he'd left her sitting. Though a hundred people had stood between them, the world fell away. Everyone else in the room might as well not have existed. Still captor of her gaze, he bowed slightly. "May I have this dance?" Was there music playing? She hadn't noticed, but yes, there it was... a soft, slow beautiful song. She searched the room and noticed that several of the couples were making their way onto the dance floor.

"I shouldn't," she said dumbly. The emotions she was feeling weren't right. She didn't want him to know.

He grasped her hand anyway and guided her to her feet. His smile was encouraging. "Too bad. I had to give a speech. You have to dance." He led her to a spot near the center, guided her hands to his shoulders, and placed his hands gently at her waist. She found it difficult to resist him. If she did so now, she'd only make him look bad. She didn't want to cause a scene. One look into his eyes with their dangerous, seductive glitter and she knew that that had been his plan all along. The rogue!

Neither said anything as they swayed to the music. She was surprised neither of them stepped on each other, so distracted was she. With every step, their feet moved in perfect unison. Finally, a few minutes into the first song, she spoke. "Shikamaru," she whispered, not wanting anyone else to hear, "I don't think we should be doing this."

He rested his chin against the side of her head and whispered directly into her ear. No one would have guessed they were having a conversation. "It's just dancing, Kurenai. You came with me today as my date. People expect this of us."

"But--"

His warm chuckle in her ear sent shivers through her body. "You worry too much. Say the word, and I'll take you back home." They fell silent, their bodies still shifting to the beat as she considered it, but when she said nothing he spoke again. "It's a wedding, Kurenai. It's a night that no one judges others based on who they came with, who they danced with, or who they went home with. No one has to worry about losing face if they get drunk or get into a fight. It's a magical mulligan in the eyes of the public.

"Choji and Moegi are so into each other that they would be just fine if none of us were here. So pretend this is  _your_  night, Kurenai, and just let go." She felt his smile against her ear and practically melted into his arms. "You look wonderful tonight. So, dance if you want to dance. Eat all the chocolate covered strawberries you want. Drink the wine to excess. Whatever happens tonight, I'll make sure you get home safe and sleep alone, and tomorrow everything will go back to normal. Okay?"

Though she was an unwilling victim of the dance floor, her heart danced wildly in her chest. His voice made her body disobey her brain. Somehow, she had fallen under his spell. Her smile was involuntary. What he had said made perfect sense. Yes, she  _did_  deserve this. She  _did_  want to enjoy herself. She'd dressed up, put on makeup, and gotten a babysitter, hadn't she? She felt herself relax. How did he have that effect on her? Her heart slowed, the panic ebbing... but its cadence was replaced with an intense, deep thrum of pleasure. She tucked her head into the warm, snuggly spot between his neck and his shoulder and sighed, letting him lead the dance. "Okay," she surrendered meekly. "You win."

Perhaps it was not so juvenile to pretend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... tell me the truth. Did you like it? :-D


	9. Cacophany

Something was… off, about today, she decided. Perhaps she'd woken up on the wrong side of the bed? But that was impossible… her bed was in a corner. It only had one 'side.' Was it the weather? What day was today? Sometimes, she felt randomly cranky on specific days that held significance in her relationship with Asuma. March 29, their first date. May 13, when he'd told her he loved her. He'd confessed on her doorstep in the middle of the night, claiming he couldn't sleep without being near her. He'd slept at her house that night, and they had shared a bed. October 21, the day he'd proposed, a secret she'd never had a reason to tell. October 28… the day he had died. Sometimes, these dates passed by and she hardly noticed. It had been nearly four years. But sometimes, she felt her loneliness as sharp as a knife.

Today was nothing special. Just August 19. One of the 361 other boring days.

Her head felt foggy, as if she'd been up the whole night drinking and hardly slept. But that wasn't right either. She hadn't enjoyed a real drink in years. When she drank alcohol, it brought out the sadness in her that she'd done her best to suppress. When she drank, she could see him, hear him, feel him… as if he'd never left. She could see how some people so easily turned to alcoholism. It was so tempting to be nearer to Asuma every day.

But that life was a lie. Asuma was dead. It was time to move on.

The fogginess adjusted the world. It was as if she saw the whole thing through a lens clouded with rage. The morning started out like many; Chisuzu wanted out of her bed. She was a good girl, and she had been taught to stay in bed until Mommy was up. She started hollering for her mother way before Kurenai was ready to wake up. Most days, that wouldn't bother her. However, today for some reason, Kurenai wanted sleep more than she wanted a happy child. She shouted at her from the other room to just "shut up, please!" and got exactly what she deserved: a screaming child.

And, of course,  _that_  made everything better.

She found herself wishing that this was one of the more common days that Shikamaru had stayed the night. If he were here, he'd take care of Chisuzu, and Kurenai could sleep in a little longer.

He'd probably make breakfast, too.

 _And_ coffee.

Suddenly, all she wanted to do was cry. What was going on with her today? Crying wasn't going to solve anything. She'd learned that four years ago when weeping failed to resurrect her true love. The wails and tears of her daughter, the emptiness of her house, the certainty that her home was not going to take care of itself, that despite being exhausted and ornery, she'd still somehow need to find the energy to wake up, clean, cook, shower, and shoulder all of the responsibility of a cranky four year old.

She didn't want it. She didn't want to be a mother today.

She missed Shikamaru. Even considered making that her first order of business today, before 'putting on clothes.' Of course, that was an unwelcome thought, marching to the Nara household in naught but her skin, and it stirred up an old suspicion that she had buried. In cement.

She was wayyy too familiar with everything about Shikamaru. She had washed his laundry. She knew how he liked his coffee (black), and that he hated eggs, and mayonnaise. He wasn't particularly fond of sweets, either. She'd watched him work through problems without saying a word, and knew his work schedule better than her own. She adored his parenting talents; it was likely that he was a better father than she was a mother, and that was impressive. She had no qualms about leaving her daughter with him, and had left the two alone for months at a time. When Shikamaru was in her house, she knew that they were safe.

And loved.

His presence in her house was increasing her level of melancholy. She wanted her fiancé back, and was feeling the sting of his absence even more keenly, especially when Shikamaru was gone. When Asuma had been here, there had been no such thing as questions and loneliness and inappropriate feelings. 

Realization hit her like an icicle spear. Is that why Shikamaru so seldom left her alone? Did he suspect that her loneliness plagued her when he was away? Probably. He had observational talent and patience to spare.

Guilt was the next stabbing emotion and it made her feel like a pincushion pierced with every negative emotion known to man. Shikamaru had been attending to her every need, perceived and real, and all she'd done for him was hand over one measly mango. It hadn't even cost her anything. Mangoes in the Land of Mangoes were as plentiful as rice. People had mango trees in their yards. Of her piercing, bothersome emotions, the guilt was the strongest. Stubbornly she set her jaw and decided that she wasn't going to go bother him with her problems today. "I can do this," she whispered aloud to the ceiling. "It's just a four year old."

Grudgingly, she clambered out of bed and dressed, the yowls of a toddler the symphony that brought with it the dawn.

* * *

 

Shikamaru was aware that something was wrong as if he had a tiny jingle bell hardwired to the part of his brain that controlled intuition. There was just this nagging feeling that something wasn't quite right with the world he lived in. He'd only felt that way a handful of times, and most times it had been too late to resolve. He'd felt that way when Asuma had died. He felt that way when his father was gone. He felt it a couple of times when Ino was dealing with the worst of Sasuke. He'd been able to save her, once, from a particularly close call involving a fifth of rum and the shard of a broken mirror. He was improving.

So when the jingle bell went off today, he heeded it. Something was up with Kurenai.

He'd gone against his better judgment and skipped the night at her house. Tsunade 'needed' his 'help' with her monthly reports. Usually, 'needing help' with the reports was code for she was hungover and didn't want to do them at all. He accepted the task with little complaint. He found them to be moronically easy and it kept her from finding something more tedious to do, like giving a tour to whichever representative from the other great nations happened to be in town on that day.

He sank back in the office chair, head draped over the back of it, fingertips lightly brushing the floor. He could read the clock—upside down—from this angle. 6:19 p.m. "Aw, man," he groaned aloud, spinning the chair so that he could see the mountainous stack of reports. He was torn between his sense of duty to the Hokage and what was undoubtedly becoming a crisis at home. If he didn't get out of here soon, there was no telling what would happen. On the other hand, if he didn't finish these reports…

He was reminded of a time he saw Tsunade when she was really pissed off about a late shipment of medical supplies. She set her feet, cracked her knuckles, and narrowed her eyes. When she was finished with the poor guy, he'd needed stitches, antibiotics, and weeks of therapy. Shikamaru wouldn't be surprised if he was sterile, too.

Back in the present, he was blinking at the stack of reports. His pen hand was cramped up, and the last thing he wanted to do was two… maybe three hours worth of analysis and data entry. Nonetheless, it would be insane to try to get away with skipping out, particularly where Tsunade was concerned. "Only one way this ends," he muttered unhappily, struggling to ignore the growing sense that something was horribly wrong with Kurenai and Chisuzu. He sighed, shook his hand to relieve the cramp, and continued his work.

* * *

 

"NO!" Chisuzu shrieked, dropping to the floor and refusing to move.

"Chisuzu, please," Kurenai pleaded, not in the mood to deal with another tantrum. How was it that kids could sense weakness like sharks sense blood? She was already having an off day, and her daughter was taking full advantage of her lax discipline today. Her latest quest for attention? Opening and shutting doors. Over and over again. First, Kurenai had asked her politely to please stop. Then, she'd tried to distract her with toys. Finally, she'd pulled the girl's hands off the knob. Chisuzu had merely glared at her and reached for it again. Ten minutes later, they were still in disagreement about the door.

Kurenai's head was pounding. The headache had crept up on her hours ago, and she was at her wits end. She squeezed her eyes shut, searching for the strength to get through this day. "Darling," she said in her sweetest voice, "Mommy isn't feeling well. Can we please do something quieter?"

"NO!"

She tried a different approach. "That's ENOUGH. No more doors, or you're going to bed."

"NO!"

"Yes."

"NO!"

She reminded herself that there was no point in arguing with a 4 year old. She'd run out of ideas. That was when she smelled the unmistakable odor of burning chocolate. "Dammit!" she cursed, hurrying to the stove. In her quest for independence, she took it upon herself to make cookies today, and the chocolate was burning on the stove. She should have known better than to try to cook anything fancy today, but cookies should have been totally doable. "Oh no!" she whimpered. The chocolate was not going to be saved, and the rest of the cookies were already mixed up. The recipe was a total failure. "No, no, no…"

Freed from her parenting, Chisuzu was back at it. BANG. BANG. BANG. "Chisuzu…" she wailed. Would this day never end?

"NO!"

 _BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP._ The smoke detector started screeching.

BANG.  _BEEPBEEPBEEP_. "NO!" BANG. "NO!"  _BEEP_!

She dropped the pot of burned chocolate on the stove and felt the blackness close in. Oh, the noise! The cacophony of sounds threatened to shatter her skull. She didn't even know she was falling until her butt slammed hard against the floor. Her head crashed into her hands, and then the tears just… came.

She couldn't do this anymore. She couldn't balance her life as a ninja with her demanding child and the loneliness. Sometimes, she just wanted a day off, to get away. An escape.

His voice cut through the noise like a knife. "What the hell is going on in here?" A clear, solid path through the wilderness. She thought perhaps he'd come to check on her first, then despaired when he did not. Instead, he strode over to the rebellious little girl who was still making music with the doorframe, grasped her hand and told her "NO, Chisuzu. Can't you see you're hurting your mother? You don't want to hurt her, do you?"

She shook her head, eyes welling up with tears. "Mommy has been hurt all day," she complained.

His lips pursed. He'd take care of that in a moment. "Wait here, ok?" She nodded.

On his way back to the kitchen, he tugged his shirt off and used it to wave the smoke away from the detector. The beeping stopped. He tied his shirt around the detector as a temporary measure to make sure it didn't trigger again.

Next. He shut the burner on the stove off and put the pot, burnt chocolate and all, into the sink with the water running.

He looked down at his feet where Kurenai had her back to the kitchen sink, sobbing frantically into her knees. His heart broke for her. He should have abandoned the stack of reports. He'd known it, too, and cursed himself for a fool for ignoring his intuition. He sighed heavily. "Come on, Kurenai," he commanded quietly, offering his hands to help her up. "I'm here now. I'll take care of it."

She peeked up through her disheveled hair, red irises wide with need. His brows furrowed at her obvious distress. He'd done his very best over the years to prevent moments like this one, and in that respect, it seemed he had failed at last.  _I'm sorry, Asuma… I wasn't as perfect as you thought I would be._ To his relief, she grasped his hands. Hers were cold; another problem that needed immediate attention.

Whether or not it would be appropriate, he pulled her in gently and hugged her tight while she got her crying under control, ignoring the way his sensitive skin felt with her against it. "You can tell me about it later, if you want. And if you don't want to, that's fine, too," he told her as he stroked her feather-soft hair. "But for right now, I think you need to lay down." She nodded, never once looking up from the safety of his chest. He didn't ask her permission before he scooped her up with one strong arm and carried her to her room. He'd never been in her room before. It was inappropriate for a man to enter a woman's bedroom without being invited, but he didn't think she'd mind this time. If he weren't so worried about her, he might have been thrilled when she wrapped an arm around his neck to hold on.

 _What have I gotten myself into?_  he thought. He was so utterly addicted to everything about the chaotic life he'd been leading, weepy widow, shrieking kid, and all.

He laid her down upon her bed and tucked the coverlet around her. Then he sat on the edge of the bed and peered down at her. Her eyes were half-lidded, avoiding eye contact. She was ashamed, he knew, that he had seen her this way. Balls to that. "Hey," he cooed, fixing an errant lock of sable hair from one swollen crimson eye, "stop worrying so much. I'll go take care of everything. You just relax."

She nodded and managed a weak smile. "Okay."


	10. Tinder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things start to heat up here. You've been warned. 
> 
> This chapter is still safe for the work. The next one... not so much.

He shut the door softly as he backed out of the room, his heart shattering into a million pieces as she started softly sobbing, shoulders shaking. He didn't want to imagine the stress she had endured. Widowed before she was ever wed, she'd become the stigmatized single mother in a world where women were often undervalued.

As a female Shinobi, her skillset was very specific, and she'd just become another one of the 'useless' kunoichi. She never spoke of it, but he saw it in her demeanor: whenever she was called for a mission, she dragged her feet. She didn't much enjoy her work, and he heard the things that other ninja said. Sakura, Ino, Tenten, Kurenai, Hinata… most of the kunoichi were less decorated than their male counterparts in terms of career achievements. It was the most hushed conflict of the Shinobi world. To speak of it was to accuse each other of sexual harassment and gender discrimination. Despite that, Kurenai never mentioned feeling less of a Shinobi and was determined to make a name for herself. Her Genjutsu skills were nigh unparalleled, but there was a subset of Shinobi that believed that Genjutsu was a woman's weapon, since it was used to elude hand-to-hand confrontation. She never turned down a mission, and volunteered when she could.

She worked too hard. On top of raising a child who was still in her most difficult years, she was working a full time job and surviving entirely on her own. It was a wonder that she was not a broken woman! Her quiet strength amazed him; she never complained about either work or her second job as a mother. Furthermore, although he  _knew_  that she was desperately lonely, she never once gave any hint that she needed company. She was grateful when her friends visited, but she didn't want to inconvenience them by haranguing them with her hanger-on.

He had learned in dealing with her moods over the years that when she was upset, she never said what she meant. If Kurenai was experiencing a low point, she always said the opposite of what she meant. "Fine" was always a dangerous word. If she was really fine, she used different adjectives, like "fantastic," "wonderful," and "great." "I'm fine" meant "I need rest and a vacation." If he asked "Do you need anything?" and she smiled and said "no, it's fine," it meant that there was something she definitely needed, but that she didn't want to make him do anything for her. He'd paid attention, though, and he knew better. Now, he didn't even have to ask.

He returned to where he'd left Chisuzu and crouched down to eye level. "Mommy isn't feeling well. Will you play with me instead?" He put on his most winning smile and ruffled her hair.

Completely out of the blue, she fixed her wide, innocent brown eyes on his and asked the question he'd dreaded since the moment she'd been born. "Shika, are you my daddy?"

He managed, just barely, to keep his smile from slipping away. He looked at the girl who had stolen his heart. She had the messy black mop of hair that her mother had given her and Asuma's warm and friendly eyes. Not for the first time, he fervently wished his sensei had been here to witness her growth. The two of them had made a beautiful child. He asked her a question instead. "Do you know what a daddy is?"

She nodded and explained. "Daddy is the man that lives with you and tells you he loves you. I love you. Do you love me?" She wrapped her fingers around the doorknob she'd been using to terrorize her mother and leaned away from it.

Without hesitation, he answered, "Of course I love you. You're my very favorite Monster of all time!" She smiled broadly. By her definition, he did fit the bill, but he didn't want to lie to her either. "But you're only  _almost_  right. Daddy is the man that lives with you and tells you  _and_  Mommy that he loves you both. I'm not your daddy, Monster, but I'll always be your friend." He reached out and patted her arm.

Her eyes widened even further, shocked by the subtle undercurrent that he hadn't even spoken aloud. "You mean you  _don't_  love Mommy?"

He thought he'd answered some difficult questions in his lifetime. This was harder than every test he'd every taken or any interrogation he could have sat through. Which answer would satisfy her and stop the questions? "I don't know, yet. Maybe."

She frowned, chewing on his words. "Well then, if you're not my daddy… then who  _is_  my daddy?"

His heart lurched. Another question he was hoping not to answer. "You should ask your mother," he dodged nervously. Kurenai would probably have a fit if she was not the one who got to explain who Asuma was to their daughter.

"I want you to be my daddy, Shika," she pouted.

He had to bite back from saying  _Me, too._ How about a distraction? "Come on, little Monster. It's late. Hop into bed and I'll read you a story."

"'Kay!" she chirped, obeying him instantly and scrambling onto her bed. He helped her change into her pajamas and tucked her in. Then, he draped himself onto the bed next to her and opened up the book she had selected. It was, by now, the most popular book in Konoha: "Tales of a Gutsy Ninja," Jiraiya's best work. It had been made famous when it was revealed that the famous Fourth Hokage had named his famous son after the main character.

He loved reading to her. He was convinced that the more you read to a child, the more intelligent they became, and he planned to test that theory to its maximum extent. "…When are you going to give up… telling me to give up!" he was reading a little bit later, but then he noticed that she was snoozing. The puddle of drool told him that she'd been sleeping for a while already. The kid was serious about her sleep, which was something he could appreciate.

 _Thank goodness_ , he thought. Finally, he could go check on Kurenai and lecture her for pushing herself too hard. He eased himself around the sleeping child, tucking a pillow into the space he had occupied so she could believe that he was still there if she stirred. Then, leaving the light on as was his custom, he tiptoed from her room to Kurenai's.

He knocked this time, not wanting to enter without permission. "It's okay!" she called from inside. He twisted the doorknob and pushed it in gently, heart pounding already. It was getting more and more difficult to be around her these days. Something about her increasing vulnerability was drawing him in like a moth to the flame.

_I will protect you, Kurenai, whether you like it or not, even if I have to protect you from yourself._

He only went in far enough to shut the door behind him. This conversation had the potential to be a lengthy one, and it wouldn't do for Chisuzu to wake up and interrupt. On the other hand, he didn't want to be too close to her—

"Come and sit, Shikamaru," she bade him wearily, rolling over slowly to face him instead of the wall.

\--Or not.

He glanced around for a chair. There wasn't one. Shit. Swallowing the butterflies, he sat at the edge of her bed and looked over his shoulder at her. It hurt his neck, and she noticed.

"Is that how you sit when you're talking to someone?" she asked, chuckling. It was a subtle command for him to turn more, which would force him to lie too close to her for him to behave himself. He hesitated. "Fine, I'll get up." She slid over onto her elbow, but Shikamaru wasn't going to have that.

"No." He held up a hand to stop her. He wasn't going to have her get uncomfortable just because he was… uncomfortable. Sighing with resignation, he eased onto the bed next to her.  _Above_  the covers, and sitting up straight with legs out in front of him.

Her lush lips curved in a slow smile. "I make you nervous, don't I?"

It was a rhetorical question—or at least, it was now because he willed it so—and he ignored it. "What happened today, Kurenai?"

Her smile faded. "I haven't felt right," she stated simply. She took a deep breath, exhaled, and explained. "I woke up in a funk. Didn't want to get out of bed. Chisuzu has been a real pain today. I've had a horrible headache since about noon. I burned no-bake cookies, I—"

He huffed out an incredulous laugh and held up his hand again. "Wait. You burned…  _no-bake_  cookies?"

She narrowed her eyes at him and sniped dangerously, "Yeah. The chocolate has to be melted on the stove. What of it?"

He shook his head, helplessly trying to contain the laughter bubbling up from within.

"Anyway," she continued softly, "I've just been feeling out of sorts. I don't know what's wrong with me." She looked away. Historically, that meant she was biting her lip and trying not to cry. Her voice dropped to a ghostly whisper. "I just don't know… anything… anymore."

His nervousness fled. As with anything revolving around Kurenai, he knew exactly what to do to calm her down, or at least distract her. He snaked one arm around her slim and trembling shoulders and tugged her toward him. Without protest, she fell into his side, burying her face in his shoulder. This had never been strange for them; he had always been her rock, and he would do anything for her.

She didn't sob this time, though, merely let the tears trickle down to her chin, defeated. She had tried so damnably hard today to not need this. She'd struggled through the inexplicably worst day of her life to convince herself that she did not need Shikamaru to be okay, and she'd failed so horribly bad that the truth was staring them right in the hairy eyeball.

She needed him. The realization had been blooming like a green bud in her bosom. She had fiercely denied it, knowing in her heart of hearts that her feelings were improper for a woman of her age. It had been easier then, when Shikamaru was still barely a man. It had gotten more difficult as he'd proven time and again that he was a more than capable, mature, responsible adult. He'd been her partner in life since Asuma had died, had readily accepted every challenge, weathered her every mood, survived every one of Chisuzu's temper tantrums, and healed every hurt. He'd been a part of their family for so long that thinking of the day that he might not be in it felt like he might be dying. She'd miss him if he were gone. Drawn by the natural magnetism that bade her to keep him close, she peeked up at his face.

He was trying not to look at her, troubled of late by how her closeness to his body inflamed him. He could feel her eyes upon him, though, knew she was seeking his eyes to try to read him, rewarded only with the view of his chin. If he looked into her eyes now, he'd be lost. Her gaze would be filled with need, vulnerability… loneliness. He already knew that affected him. He'd have to fill that void, and it was a line that, once crossed, could not be uncrossed. Everything would be different from then on.

But time was stretching. Kurenai was still waiting, watching him, beckoning him without meaning to, simply believing she was studying him without his knowledge. Time felt as if it was frozen; perhaps this moment would go on forever until he looked down upon her upturned face, succumbed to the allure, and gave over to her.

Only one way to find out. He looked down.

As he suspected, his heart was flayed to ribbons by one look. There was just the barest softening in her brow, as if in simply looking at her, he had fulfilled her deepest, most secret desire.  _Wow_ , he thought, feeling the insistent tug in his gut.  _This really_ is _it._

No more questions. No more rules. No more lies. There was a single truth in this room that could not be denied, nor sullied by the ugliness of speech. He loved her. Before he knew it, his hands were buried in the rich warmth of her hair. He drew his face in close, making his intentions known, giving her the chance to reject him. Heartbeats passed, and still she did not pull away. So he hadn't imagined her subtle reactions. The hesitations, the smiles, the kiss on the cheek, the gift of the mango. Whether she was ready to admit it or not, she must have wanted this, too.

The time for thinking was in the past. He closed the last tiny stretch of space between them…

…and kissed her.


	11. Let Go

He had always thought that love poems and love stories sounded hokey and ridiculous. People who had been in love often talked about the myth of "love at first sight," as if it were a scientifically proven fact that physical attraction equaled lifetime compatibility. The idea was simply nonsense. That, and it made him want to vomit to read the works of romantic poets, comparing a lady's physical features to various natural wonders like sunsets, oceans, and stars. The world does not shift when one falls in love. The epochs of time are not rewritten. Love does not reset one's wits to zero and make you do "crazy things." To think that this was true was to embrace stupidity, and that was just something he would not do. 

What was the big deal? You find someone you believe to be moderately tolerable, pretend that their wants, dislikes, and dreams are simply an extension of your own, put your opposing genital parts together and have a romp for shits and giggles… and tada! You have a relationship! There was a time when he used to believe that love was like that, and he'd thought it seemed so inane that it would actually hamper his lifestyle. Case in point: how his mother had harassed his father and his father had lapsed into self-deprecation and drunkenness. It was a fate that Shikamaru had never wanted for himself, and so he'd pretty much sworn off women entirely for most of his life so far.

Unwittingly, he had been in a relationship this whole time. Kurenai was more than 'moderately tolerable'; she was quite funny when she was relaxed. She was a moderately decent cook. She never demanded his attention be on her, nor chided him for his shortcomings or pointed out his flaws. She never asked him for anything, except for a little help once in a while when she was too busy to take care of her own needs. He didn't have to pretend that her wants, dislikes, and dreams were an extension of his own. Instead, he had recognized that she deserved to be happy, and had, of his own volition, tried to give her what she wanted, remove the things from her life that made her unhappy, and help her to achieve her own dreams.

As for the genital parts… heh. He'd done it in his dreams more times than he could count. His daydreams on sunny hilltops under the clouds were about what it would be like to be with her.  _Really_  with her. He'd never done it before, but he didn't suppose it would need much figuring it out. Human bodies were equipped with parts that fit together like lock and key, and the rest of the act of sex was a mish mash of hormones and instincts. "That feels good, so keep doing it" versus "that doesn't excite me, so try something else," sensations that were communicated to your partner by sounds and movements. Easy enough.

Love, he had never understood, until he realized that he was accidentally in love with Kurenai. Sex, he found, was much more in his ballpark.

* * *

 

He liked the feel of her lips against his. They were warm and soft, and melded so perfectly with his that it was hard to tell where one of them began and the other ended. She inhaled a sharp breath at the onset of the contact, and it literally took his breath away. He felt the air sucked out of his lungs, and his heart raced at the intimacy of it. It was thrilling that they had shared breath, as if they were one person. He grazed her lip with his teeth, then nipped on it, before returning his lips to hers and resting there, simply enjoying the contact. He sighed, content, feeling as if he had returned home for the first time in years. Vaguely, he felt a bit dismayed at having delayed this moment this long.

Until Kurenai confirmed his suspicions and spoke. She broke the kiss, rested her forehead upon his, and looked down and away from him. He gazed longingly at those dark, pretty lashes, willing her to turn those amazingly unique eyes his way. He wanted her to see his feelings in his face, to know he meant it. But she avoided eye contact. Instead she whispered, "Shikamaru… don't  _ever_  do that again." She rested one of her palms against her breast, as if trying to hide the bosom that he meant to attend to next from his prying eyes.

He knew better. She never asked for what she wanted, and lied when she thought she was being troublesome. What she was doing with her hand was stilling a pounding heart, a heart that was racing his for dominance, and losing. He'd felt it; the strength of that heartbeat had been felt in every blood vessel, and he hadn't missed it. He had  _not_  been wrong about her, or about  _them_. What she was saying was,  _"I desperately want you to kiss me again."_ He'd prided himself on how effectively he understood her subtle hints, and he was not about to let her down now.

His hand shot out and cupped her chin, forcing her to face him. His eyes gobbled up those ruby stunners, and with only a hesitation to drink in the nervous surprise on her face, he dove in. She wasn't good at asking for what she wanted, so he endeavored to give her everything she wouldn't ask for. She wasn't a take charge kind of woman, so he was going to take command. He seized control of her mouth with his, invading her mouth with his tongue when her gape of surprise gave him the opportunity. She didn't clamp her mouth shut, nor push him away. He leaned forward, daring her to push back. She caved, as he knew she would, and eased backward, their bodies moving as one union as he followed her down. He attuned all of his senses to the movement of her body, the cadence of her heart, and the sinusoidal rhythm of her breathing. The symphony of her body was telling him everything he needed to know.

He caged her with his arms and peered down at her. Her eyelids were half closed, watching him. There was panic there, but desire, too. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked, panting.  _Say no._

"Yes," she peeped, voice quavering with nerves.

 _No,_ he heard.  _Never._  Her cheeks were flushed red. It was a good look on her. He kissed her again, languishing in the strokes of his tongue against hers, clamping his lips down on the swelling flesh of hers, reveling in the sensation that he was born to do this. This woman, this fierce yet gentle woman, wanted him to please her, and he wanted her to be pleased. He turned his attentions to her neck. It was often obscured by the fall of her hair, and he wanted to know it as well as he knew the rest of her face. He nuzzled it with his nose, then followed the path he'd traced with a peppering of kisses. He bit down on the cleft between her shoulder and her neck, and she leaned her head away from his to let him.

 _Give yourself to me_ , he silently demanded. "Shikamaru, you can't…!" she protested, while giving him the exact angle and encouragement he needed to do just that. Her cool fingers dove beneath the hem of his shirt and scraped deliciously against his skin, sending shivers of pleasure blazing from the pit of his belly through his veins like an inferno.

"Push me away," he challenged, worming a hand up her blouse. He found his prize, soft and perfect and made to be touched. He ghosted the pad of his thumb over the very tip of her nipple and said against her lips. "Make me stop, and I'll go home and this never happened… nor will it happen again." He waited, working his thumb in a spiral further and further from the nipple

She didn't speak. Didn't move. Didn't  _breathe_  for several seconds. "This is wrong," she whispered finally, then contradicted herself by nipping his lower lip.

"Is it?" he purred, pressing the lower half of his body against hers so as to make the unmistakable bulge there an undeniable truth.  _This is natural. Feel it. Accept it. Accept_ me _._

"Asuma is—" she tried to argue frantically.

"Dead, Kurenai, and I regret it, too. But you and I are alive. Here. Now. I've practically been living with you for years. You, live with  _me_  now. If, tomorrow, you change your mind, I'll live with it. Can you deny that you want this?" He ceased his ministrations to her body and waited. His body was charged with need, throbbing, begging to be free... But this was Kurenai. He wanted her consent and her respect.

Still, she hesitated. "I…care about you, Kurenai." He didn't say 'love.' Instead, he posted the word in his eyes. If she could peer into his gaze and see it written there, she might understand. Love could be a terrifying word. He wanted her to enjoy him without any worry about what may be. The hard lines of his body softened against hers, resting instead of pinning. His features softened, inviting rather than demanding.  _We can be together… I want you as much as you want me. I won't hurt you. It's alright._

At first she didn't move. She lay there, staring into his face, seeking the lie. Her breathing was shallow, panicked. She hadn't bargained for this, had had no idea this was on her schedule today. She had hoped to have a lot longer to think about the odd chronicles of Shikamaru and Kurenai before she needed to decipher what his constant presence in her life meant.

But… his desire was evident. The bulge in his pants was straining to get out. The look in his eyes was heady and fogged over with lust, perhaps even… love? He gazed upon her like a treasure that needed to be shined. If she'd but let him coax and sharpen the feral abilities of her body, she would ascend to the heavens and be a goddess of love. He asked her to deny him; she couldn't. She simply could not deny that her daydreams had drifted to the unclean places that his body could take her, it's just that she… had suppressed them, banished them to the realm of impossibility. He was far younger than she, and she had just accepted it as a given that he'd have no interest in a woman so much older, and the former lover of someone he knew so well, at that. But, he lived to surprise her with his insight, and right now, with the way he was looking at her, she did not feel at all like an old lady.

She felt young, carefree, beautiful, and  _wanted_. Her heart was fluttering like a caffeinated butterfly. Her hands were moving of their own free will, exploring with wonder the blazing expanse of his chest. He had once told her that his blood ran hotter than most, on a freezing night years ago, when he'd valiantly given her his jacket. He'd let her touch him then, to see that he spoke true, and he had never once lied to her. The heat in his veins tantalized her. She wanted to wrap her body around it and absorb it all. The way his mouth had claimed hers, like he owned her body and her will, and would use it to take her places she had never been before. If she could just… let go, he would guide her into heaven and show her the angels.

Sighing, surrendering, she gave him her answer. Her hands, already embedded in the fabric of his shirt, gripped the hem and tore it over his head. He contorted his body and tipped his head to aid her, and when his face reappeared it was smirking. The little devil! Like a breaking wave, his hips ground back into her, searing her to her most private core. She gasped for breath, stunned by a shock of sensation that, although not unknown, was by now unfamiliar. She chuckled, a throaty laugh that ended on a moan when his teeth scraped down her neck and lodged onto a nipple. Finally tired of the offending garment, she arched her back and peeled it off.

As if to thank her for the access, he buried his face in her breasts, nuzzling, the stubble of his face causing pins and needles to prickle through her senses, driving her mind into the stars. How long had it been since she had given over mindless to the acts of love? Too long, she decided as his tongue twirled around her nipples. "Mmn," she groaned, more like a growl that never left her throat. She arched her back for purely impractical reasons this time, wanting his tongue to be closer than it could be. Wanting him to be closer than was possible.

He left her breasts and moved lower, causing her to whimper with despair. He left her body needy and unsatisfied. Devoid of his attention and his mouth, she writhed. Anything to make sure her body was feeling friction and the fabric of her sheets razed her sensitized skin.  _Touch me_ , she wanted to say, but the words failed her. She'd always had the inability to voice her desires. With him though, she didn't need to. He wouldn't leave her unsatisfied; she felt it, deep in her soul. He inserted his thumbs into the waistline of her snug, knee-length black shorts and peeled them down past her ankles. He kept his eyes trained on his new prize as he flung them far away. They were only an impediment between him and what he wanted. His eyes glittered with mischief.

 _No_ , she thought, embarrassed. "Not there!" she squawked, suddenly self-conscious. She made as if to squirm away from him, but he kept her deftly hemmed in with his body. With that up-to-no-good smirk on his face, he lowered himself to her hips. He wrapped his arms around her legs to keep her trapped. She looked away, not willing to watch. Then, she felt it. Sparks shot through abdomen as he licked, tongue flitting gently and deftly with more skill than he should have possessed. Instinctively, she grabbed one of her pillows and smashed it into her face to muffle the sound, and she gasped a soft feminine yelp of surprise. Her hips bucked involuntarily, but his hands held her firmly in place. She writhed back and forth, trying to tear her most private, intimate spot away from his face, not wanting to mortify herself by losing her self-control here. Heartless bastard that he was, he held her still. He slid one finger into her, not missing a beat with his tongue. She screamed into the pillow. Another second longer, and she'd be lost. There was no going back. Her hips rocked in rhythm with his tongue tapping, bringing her closer and closer to the edge of release.

And then he stopped. She groaned with disappointment, hungry for more. Then she noticed with an excitement that was already bordering on the edge of insanity that he had only paused to remove his own pants. He dragged them off, revealing the object of her dreams and the proof of his desire. She spared it only a momentary glance, though, before her eyes locked onto his. He smiled then; it wasn't his usual smirk, just a slow, shy smile with the hint of a blush. For the first time, he spoke. "I've… never done this before," he admitted.

She didn't have words for him. Encouragement would have left her lips like condescension, or worse, like a falsehood. Instead she merely smiled in return and clamped her hips around his. It was an invitation of trust. Her eyes still never left his. Their gazes held as he slowly, rapturously, slid inside her. As one, their mouths fell open in awe. A wordless, animalistic sound rumbled in his throat at the intrusion. "Wow," he breathed. She wondered if he felt at all like she did, overcome with a feeling of completeness that was indescribable. For a moment, neither of them dared move. The feeling of being connected to someone like this again, for her, was a moment to be cherished and savored. She squeezed her inner muscles, wanting to bask in the feeling of him in there, and was rewarded with another satisfying guttural rumble.

He tested his new position, slowly moving in and out of her in slow, languid strokes. Unbidden, her hands found their way to his shoulders. With every slow thrust, her fingertips ground into his back and his breath steamed past her ear. Her wits were slowly fleeing her. As he picked up speed, driven by the instinct and the passion of making love, her vision winked out. All she heard was the pant of his hot breath and her own wild gasps of pleasure. Her core of being shrank to the lower part of her abdomen, radiating heat outward from the place between her legs. She was a vessel of bliss, and he the captain. She surrendered completely to him, and just as she made the unconscious decision to do so, his right hand flew to her neck. He gripped her chin roughly and forced her to look at him. Her brow creased with concern, uncertain if she liked it, but the intense look upon his face bade her to trust him.

She let go.

He had never hurt her and never would. The realization of it and the pulsating power between her legs were the final act in a dramatization of love. With a final, shriek of pleasure hastily bitten off by sinking her teeth into his forearm, she came, whimpering into his superheated skin.

Blind to her own indulgence, she was only dimly aware of his body tensing up when her teeth bit into firm muscle. His thrusting became erratic, urgent, wholly not his own. With her teeth still buried in his arm as she rode a swell of pleasure back to earth, he roared and pulled out of her just before his semen spurted out onto her sheets.

Moments later, he crashed sideways to lie next to her. He was facing her, his fingertips lightly tracing the contours of her neck and torso with a bashful, glazed over look. His face and torso shone with the sweat of exertion.

She found she couldn't speak. Words would be too vulgar for that moment, so instead she chose silence, punctuated by a contented smile.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear reader,
> 
> Consider yourself fortunate. :P Usually, I go out of my way to avoid writing "scenes like this." It bothers me that the popularity of my stories skyrocket only when I introduce sex into them, while my others suffer for views. As a writer--as an artist--this is a cause for despair. All of my stories require just as much focus and imagination, and take weeks, sometimes months, to write. Surely, my readers can find something beautiful in each of them?
> 
> In this case, however, writing a love scene was more or less required. I hope it was not disappointing. With a curtsy, I leave you to it. If you're a fan of "this scene," I recommend you read "Blind Man's Gambit." The sequel to it was a fun one. I couldn't get my characters out of bed. The stubborn bastards flipped me the bird and slammed the bedroom door in my face. Characters do that sometimes... O_O 
> 
> There's one more chapter to go. :) Are you ready for this to be over?


	12. Belonging

"Mommy!" Pause. "Mommy!"

There was a pleasant, stupefying fog in his brain. For once, he woke up with a blank mind, as if a reset button had been tripped. As long as he could remember, his mind was reeling with thoughts as soon as he cracked his eyelids. He winked one eye open, and caught a familiar yet different sight before gaze.

It was Kurenai, sleeping still. She was even more beautiful in the serenity of sleep. Her black hair was mussed from the night before, but in its wildness there was a different kind of beauty. Her face was in sharp contrast to the unruliness of her locks; the worry lines of her countenance were gone, smoothed out by peace. It was a tranquility he was responsible for, and that thrilled him. He'd finally accomplished something he could be proud of; Kurenai was happy!

"Mommy!" Pause. "Mo-o-o-mmyyyyyy!"

Shikamaru sighed with resignation. His Monster had awakened. He had to slowly, gently clamber over Kurenai's slumbering frame to exit the bed. He was careful not to crush her obscured feet. When he had finally extracted his limbs from the covers and had both feet on the floor, he dressed and returned to her side. Her back was to him now. It was a fine, graceful back, delicately curved in all the right places. Her shoulders rose and fell with the steady breath of one asleep. He laid his hand on her shoulder and smiled. All of this lovely, velvety white skin, feather soft black hair, and regal crimson eyes, his for the taking whenever he wished. He brushed back the hair from her cheekbones, still flushed from their romp, and planted a sweet, soft kiss on her jawline. "I love you, Kurenai Yuuhi," he whispered to her as she slept. It felt good to say to her, even if he knew she wouldn't hear it. It felt _right_.

He exited the room and made his way to Chisuzu's. "Mommy!" she yet called. It was later than she usually awoke, and she was antsy. He couldn't blame her. "Mo-o-o-mmyyyy!"

He crept silently to the doorjamb, then peeked around it with one eye. She hadn't seen him yet. She was staring up at the ceiling, calling her mother for the sake of doing so. "Mommy! Mo—" She froze, espying him out of the corner of her eye, before dissolving in a fit of giggles and diving under her covers to hide.

He grinned, falling for the bait. "Is there a little Monster in here?" he called, pretending he hadn't seen her. "I thought I heard a little Monster whining in here? Where did she go?" She squealed with glee and giggled even harder. "Hm. I could have sworn…" he trailed off. "Oh well. I guess if she isn't here, I'll just… ATTACK THIS UNSUSPECTING BLANKET!" he exclaimed as he tackled the mound of blankets and mercilessly began tickling.

"Shika! Stop, Shika, stop!" she shrieked, laughing uncontrollably. "It's too funny! STOP!"

"RAWR!" he growled, imitating a much bigger, scarier monster. "Rawr, rawr, RAWR!" He kept tickling, luxuriating in the musical sound of her laughter.

Finally, she'd had enough, and she went to push him away. He exaggerated her power and flung himself off the bed with her light push. She gasped with surprise as his body clunked to the floor. She peeked over the bed, worried she had hurt him, but he popped up with a loud "BAH!" She screamed and diffused into another bout of hysterical laughter.

He let her chase him out into the living room area, then he eased up and just let the situation defuse naturally. She followed suit, marching around behind him like a puppy who had found its master. "Chisuzu, what do you want for breakfast?"

"Food," she replied instantly, accepting the glass of juice he proffered.

That elicited a chuckle from him. Clearly, they had spent way too much time together. "Sounds like a wonderful idea. Bacon it is." He took a moment to set up the coffee pot. Once the miracle brew started trickling into the carafe, he set up preparations for breakfast: sliced bacon, ingredients for an omelette, and cubed cantaloupe.

* * *

 

As Shikamaru silently shut the door so as not to wake her, her face split from ear to ear. As ridiculous as it might seem to an outsider, Shikamaru had told her he loved her. Even after their night together, she hadn't been sure she had wanted to hear it. Part of her wanted him to snap out of it, to admit that what they had done had been a mistake, and to go back to the things were. Part of her wanted to believe he should be with someone closer to his age, to spend a few more years living youthfully instead of growing up so fast.

But the rest of her was erupting in juvenile rebellion.  _He's a ninja, he grew up too fast anyway!_ Inner Kurenai shrilled.  _And wow, was that_ hot! Just thinking about it took her breath away again and caused stirrings in her blood. She wanted him again. Now. Codes of conduct be damned, a decent man claimed to be in love with her. Again. The rebelliousness was winning, too, and inner Kurenai was enjoying a respite of selfishness. She felt an involuntary bubble of excitement well up and burst forth within her chest. Her toes curled for the joy of it. She recognized the feeling well, but it was something she hadn't thought to ever feel again.

Happiness, and love.

Once upon a time, she had been happy and in love. But, the Shinobi War had taken her love away from her, and had never given him back. The strength she had clung to before anything had happened—that unfailing belief that everything would be fine, and if anything did happen, that she was strong enough to endure—vanished when Shikamaru had brought her the news. She had shattered into a million pieces that day and hastily glued herself back together. Shinobi weren't allowed to have feelings, she reflected bitterly. Actually, the saying said that Shinobi weren't supposed to  _show_  them, but emotions were always visible, if you knew what to look for. Ever since then, she had never been truly happy. She had wonderful days, sometimes. Happy moments, like fleeting rays of sunshine, there one moment and behind a cloud the next. She loved being a mother, too. Chisuzu was a good girl, a wonder to behold, but painfully reminded her of her loneliness. Something was always missing.

As of today, something was different. She tentatively pressed against the cracks in her soul. The hairline fractures caused by the empty spot in her bed: gone. The cracks in her armor caused by March 29, May 13, October 21 were smoothed over, too. October 28? She felt a sharp pang in her heart remembering the day Asuma had died. She had known. KNOWN. She hissed in displeasure. Apparently not all of her hurts were healed.

After remembering October 28, she bridged the gap to the day he had brought her the news. Another sour day, though she didn't remember the date as well. On the other hand, he'd made a point of being the one to deliver the news to her, and they'd shared their feelings together. He'd been the only person to ever see her cry. His eyes had leaked that day, too, but his posture had remained unyielding and he did his best to console her. He'd been strong for her when she couldn't be. Sharing her pain had eased it, somewhat.

Had she ever experienced true loneliness? He had always been there for her. Even when he was not near her, she still felt his strength, lending her comfort when she needed it. She'd merely been so focused on holding onto Asuma that she refused to see Shikamaru's support in that light.

He had been right to push her the previous night. He had been right about everything, the smug ass, but especially about one thing: it was time to let Asuma go. He had been a wonderful man, and good for her, and she'd never forget him or take his memory for granted. He'd given her a beautiful, quirky daughter that she was proud of and loved with all of her heart.

But, it was time to let go.

From beyond her bedroom door, she heard the sounds of stamping feet as one of them chased the other across the house. It brought an easy smile to her face; Shikamaru had always been good with her daughter. Chisuzu probably assumed that he was her father. As the sounds of dishes being moved from cabinet to counter drifted to her ears, she rose and dressed. Today was already a much better day than yesterday.

Out in the kitchen, Shikamaru and Chisuzu were singing a song of utter nonsense. Chisuzu's songs never had a melody or a rhythm, even though he voice was pure and clear, but Shikamaru's voice was somehow in perfect harmony with it anyway. Their disjointed, discordant song was still beautiful, despite its strange flaws. She listened from the entry to the kitchen, one hand on her hip, watching Shikamaru's bare shoulders flex as he moved bacon around in the pan.

The last time those shoulders had flexed, he was slowly driving her to the edge of blind and blissful madness. The memory brought a rosy blush to her cheeks. She'd never look at him the same way again.

He sensed her presence then. His smile was ready and warm. He abandoned the bacon for a moment but not his duet with Chisuzu as he sashayed over to her wielding a spatula like a microphone. She couldn't stifle her giggle. When he reached her, he slipped the other arm around the small of her back and pulled her gently but firmly into his arms. "Aaand pretty lady is a penguin queeeeen!" he sang on a high trill, then dipped in to kiss her quickly at the corner of her mouth.

She'd thought their first moment awake together would be a little awkward. But as he winked at her and danced away again, tapping the handle of the spatula against the counter in a dreadful rhythm, she realized that that had been her mistake. He had always belonged in her house before. Why should today be any different?

She gave in to her favorite part about being a mother—the chance to be a child again—and swayed over to the stove where her man was cooking her omelettes. "Squirrels blink like ra-a-aindrops on a cold soup holidayyyy!" her voice rang out.

Chisuzu's laughter was exaggerated as she tapped her empty cup in time with the spatula handle. The sizzle of bacon was a nice added touch, she thought.

She wrapped her arms around his middle from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder. He bumped his head sideways to acknowledge her presence there, and she couldn't help but feel… good. She nibbled his ear for a brief moment before whispering into it…

"…and I love you, too, Shikamaru Nara."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay for good fluffy happy endings. ^_^ They deserved it!


End file.
